


Partners in Crime

by midnightwhisperings (orphan_account)



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Alexara Creiss (made this up ha), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Self Pity, Strong Woman/Weak Man, alex is a dork, may become two-sided but who knows, my first work ever, nerds, unrequited love - or so it seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/midnightwhisperings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You and me, we make a pretty good team, don't we, L.C.?" Lara couldn't help but smile. "That we do, Alex, that we do."  </p><p>Or, Alex goes with Lara to find Roth instead of Dr. Whitman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Liability

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever work on Ao3 just so happens to be the first work involving Alex/Lara. Wow. I feel like I've discovered uncharted territory.
> 
> Anyways, shoutout to my friend Leslie for helping me make this story the best it can possibly be! Muah!

With the last wolf down and her heart racing, Lara pointed her readied bow at the bushes warily, as if expecting yet another wolf to leap out at her from the bushes. When she realized that that should’ve been the last of them, she set it down to the grass and reverted her attention to the trap, attempting to pry it open with a loud, exasperated grunt.

“Over here!” She heard a familiar voice call in the distance. Feminine, yet gruff. It wasn’t Sam. Hers was more delicate, and much less demanding. Speaking of Sam, where _was_ she? As she looked up, continuing to pry open the stubborn, steel trap, wincing as it dug into her palms, she saw Reyes, her attention directed to something - or someone - behind her. Sam?

“Reyes!” Lara yelled, continuing to pry the trap open.

“I found Lara!” She called, shuffling towards Lara with a pistol. She looked down at the trap, Lara’s hands still trying to pry it open. “Let go.” Reyes directed, aiming her pistol at the trap, and obviously not sounding like she was particularly ecstatic to see Lara. Lara almost scoffed.

She removed her hands from the trap, clasping them together and raising them up to her chest, still visibly shaken. She was momentarily distracted by Alex, Grim, Dr. Whitman, and Jonah emerging from in between the trees, and she felt herself release a heavy breath she didn’t even notice she was holding in until then. Even if Reyes didn’t seem so glad to see her, she knew for a fact she was glad to see them, since God only knew what this treacherous island had in store for her. She sure didn’t want to trek it alone and find out what.

Alex, on the other hand, was equally, if not more, happy to see her.

The jarring sound of Reyes’ pistol shooting the trap loose startled Lara back to reality, her heart returning to its quick, yet labored, thudding, and her leg throbbing like a second heartbeat once it was freed of the trap’s sharp metal grip. She sighed in relief when Jonah came forward to completely pry the loose trap open with a forceful grunt, lifting her leg and accepting his outstretched hand, Reyes helping her up by her left arm. A dull, yet insistent pain surged up her bad leg as she stood, so she began to lean on her bow, ignoring the pain since it wasn’t as strong as she had feared it would be.

“It’s good to see you, little bird.” Jonah said as he helped her up, Lara still breathing heavily.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” She responded breathlessly. “Is Sam with you?”

“She was with you.” Jonah responded, a bit flustered, as Lara continued to catch her breath, becoming more dependent on her bow.

“She was here.. with that man, Mathias,” She explained, contempt laced in her tone at the mention of his name. “But I passed out. When I woke up, they were both gone.”

“You girls shouldn’t go wanderin’ off.” Grim muttered gruffly, scowling. Lara seemed to ignore him, as did everyone else.

“We need to find them.”

“Uh, w-wait, what about Roth?” Dr. Whitman inquired, turning the collective attention towards him. Nice to see he’s actually thinking about someone other than himself for once.

“Okay, let’s split up. One of us go with Lara and meet up with Roth, the rest of us should fan out and look for Sam.” Reyes reasoned.

“I’ll go with her.” Alex piped up, his gaze flicking towards Lara. The others, including Lara, eyed him with slight disbelief, inclining their eyebrows. But no one chose to object, not even Lara. Reyes stepped towards him, her gaze the most meticulous, handing him a pistol.

“Know how to use one of these?” She asked as he took the gun from her hands, gripping it with loose, tentative fingers, and looking down at it as if he were holding a ticking time bomb.

“Well, I’ve played a ton of Call of Duty and Halo, so I would say I’m pretty skilled.” Alex chuckled, trying to crack a smile. But trying to joke with Reyes on anything, especially at the worst possible time to do so, was just playing with fire, pure and simple. You were just _begging_ to be burnt. In more ways than one. The blank, yet irritated look she gave him made him step back a little, with a mumbled apology that not even he could hear. It was obvious he was simply bluffing to impress a certain someone in the group. His gaze flickered towards that someone for a split second, almost frowning at her ever-present raised eyebrow. _Man_ , did that backfire. Alex should’ve known pulling that to try to impress her was a futile attempt, because what girl - especially a girl like Lara - would be impressed by someone’s gaming skills?

On the bright side, at least the look she gave him wasn’t assessing or irritated, like Reyes’ look - it was more so of a slightly skeptical look, as if she didn’t quite believe in his possible ability to possess and/or use a firearm. A _real_ firearm.

Most likely because he was Alex run-home-to-his-mommy-if-he-saw-a-gun Weiss.

_Well, honey, I’m about to disprove that for you, just you wait._

“We’ll find Sam and regroup with you guys once you’ve found Roth.” Jonah said, placing a thick hand on Lara’s shoulder and rubbing it gently. He kept a protective set of eyes on her as he led the others deeper into the forest, the noise of their feet sloshing and squishing in the mud beginning to wane, until Lara and Alex were finally alone. Alex gulped.

Lara just stood there with a stoic expression on her face, watching them leave, before another sharp pain shot up her leg, this one a lot less dull than the last. She whimpered slightly, clutching the tear in her pants, limping towards the stone stairs. Alex, still dazed, stood in front of her, stopping her from going any further. Lara looked up at him, her lips parted in slight surprise. “Do you need to rest?” He asked.

_Of course, you idiot, that’s why she’s heading towards the stairs._

Lara nodded, taking her first step on the stair before grunting and hunching over to grip her leg. “Careful.” He said softly, guiding her arm around his neck. He could still feel the deep imprint in her palm that she had gotten when prying open the trap, and as he clutched her hand in his, he wondered if she could feel his body heating up. He swore he could cook rice on himself.

He slowly walked her up the stairs and back to the campfire, setting her down gingerly, and gently pulling her leg out. She was still panting, so Alex figured she might need some water, but he didn’t want to tell her to just drink it as it came down. He looked around for some leaves that would be big enough for her to gather the rainwater in, but before he could walk away, he noticed her holding her hands out, slurping up rainwater from her palms. Alex literally kicked himself.

_Or, yeah, you could do that, too._

He didn’t quite understand why Reyes thought it would be best to have Lara be accompanied by someone. She could totally hold her own. She was smart enough to know what she was doing. Hell, she could get off of this island by herself if she really wanted to. And now, Alex would be a liability, a weight holding her back.

He watched her as she slowly unrolled the nearby sleeping bag, keeping her bad left leg straight and stationary. She cradled her head in her right hand so it would serve as a makeshift pillow, lying on her right side with her right leg crossed under her left. As she closed her eyes, Alex thought of another idea - one he hoped she most likely hasn’t thought of. Removing his backpack, he quietly edged towards her, her breathing becoming more even and quiet. She looked like an absolute angel. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake her. He crouched down to his knees, and slowly, but surely, lifting up her leg. She suddenly hissed, lifting her head, her rheumy, pained eyes glaring down at Alex. He gulped, cursing himself inwardly.

“I’m sorry! I was just trying to..” _Prove myself to you._

He sheepishly slid his backpack under her leg, and slowly put it back down, so the backpack served as an elevation mechanism. Her intense, irritated gaze became more mild, and she sighed, placing her head back in her palm. “It’s okay. Thanks.”

_You don’t think you could’ve warned her, Weiss? God, no wonder why she doesn’t like you._

At least she was going back to sleep - soundly, at that. He decided to keep watch, since he wasn’t tired, and he might as well be somewhat useful for once. Pistol in hand, he sat down at the spot alongside Lara, keeping a watchful eye down the stairs, in case something else sprung out of the darkness. He doesn’t know if he’s good enough, smart enough, or quick enough to protect her, but he’d gladly give his life to do so, even though he wasn’t exactly sure if he deserved the same treatment from someone like her.

 ****  
  



	2. A Jinx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys :) This chapter is much longer, as you can see, for your reading pleasure :)

 

The rain had finally let up, going from torrential to a light drizzle, then to a nearly imperceptible mist, until none of it was coming down anymore. Alex couldn't believe he'd stayed awake through all of it. He felt as though he hadn't even blinked, hadn't missed a thing. He hadn't even yawned. He also couldn't believe he spent most of his time awake watching Lara sleep - and now that he gave it thought, it sounded really creepy.  _God,_ is he Edward Cullen or something?

The only real indicators of time he could find were Lara's waterlogged watch and the moon, even though simply reading the time from Lara's watch was so much more conventional and easier than trying to guess from the moon like some sort of caveman. 11:58, it read. But Alex wasn't quite sure if it was in the correct time zone. Well, who cares, anyway? He wouldn't be able to tell time with it, but he could tell how much had elapsed.

When Lara had begun to snore, it was 10:21, disproving his initial thought that perfect people (like Lara) didn't snore. As he smiled down at her, he realized that instead of being perfect, she was perfectly imperfect, and that her perfect imperfection made her the most perfect person he's ever met in his entire life. It was complex and confusing, but in the beautiful way, just like she was.

His heart fluttered like that of a little girl's when he heard her grunt, slowly beginning to sit up in the sleeping bag. As much as he loved how peaceful and at ease she looked while she was sleeping, he loved much, much more to see her awake - to be able to get lost in her hazelnut eyes. Sometimes, they would change into a light shade of grey, akin to a cloudy April morning in England. Alex couldn't choose which color he liked better, because he figured that if they belonged to Lara, they were both beautiful.

"Hey," Lara greeted with a lazy smile, turning her head to face Alex. Her eyes were glassy, like a mirror, capturing the orange, flickering tongues of the campfire before them. Alex didn't even have to force himself to smile back at her. He just did. It was instinct, impulse, whatever you wanted to call it.

"Welcome back," He greeted back, his smile widening into an impish grin. He resisted the urge to call her sleeping beauty. "Feeling any better?"

"Much, thank you. Do you think you can help -" She began.

Alex stopped her short, standing and holding out a hand for her to take, as if already anticipating what she was going to say. He gave her a smug look as she took it, slowly standing herself up and beginning to rest her entire weight onto her bad leg. Thankfully, it didn't begin to throb or hurt, so she figured she was good enough to begin to walk again.

She slowly took her first step away from the sleeping bag as Alex ushered her through, relieved at how she wasn't limping. She turned to Alex, giving him a polite, thankful smile before releasing herself from his grip and beginning to walk down the stairs on her own without a hitch. Alex smiled proudly, equally as relieved. However, his side at which Lara had initially been brushing against, was beginning to feel overrun with cold, as though it was yearning for her company once more. It was pathetic.

Lara clutched her bowstring in her fingers as she waded through the soft underbrush, wary of her surroundings. Alex was not far behind her, constantly making rustling and shuffling noises with every step he took. She found it increasingly difficult to differentiate the noises he made from the noises that she sensed were not his, and it made her skin crawl.

She followed the cobblestone path, leading her to a small, wooden bridge over a stream. Even though it seemed pretty old, it made little to no sound as she walked across it, which eased her mind a smidge. That is, until she heard more blatant rustling, accompanied with a snarl, and she knew that didn't come from Alex.

She slowly removed her bow from her upper body, Alex following suit with Reyes' pistol. And, surely enough, a single wolf, black as night, crept out of the shadows. Alex went still behind Lara. There wasn't much ammunition for firearms available, so he wasn't sure if he should shoot at it or not. But he didn't have much time to think about that, because another wolf emerged right alongside the first one.

_Shit._

Before Alex could even blink, Lara shot an arrow into the first wolf, just missing its gut. It let out a growl as it raised its haunches, preparing to land a counter attack on Lara, but she wasn't about to give it the chance. Another arrow, in the head this time. A sharp snarl announced its downfall, lolling to the ground lifelessly. Alex was so busy drooling over Lara's total badassery that he didn't notice the other wolf dashing towards him.

"Alex!" Lara shouted, but not soon enough for him to turn around and fully register what was going on.

Before he could turn around, she shot at the wolf, which fell dead to the ground just inches away from Alex's initially oblivious form.

Alex just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to come to terms with what had just happened.

 _Well, pal, you stood there drooling over Lara killing that wolf like a dipshit, much like you are now, and_ while  _you stood there like a dipshit, the other wolf almost attacked your dipshit ass. And Lara just killed it, so that wouldn't happen._

Damn. He didn't think he could be more of a liability than he already was. He didn't quite know what to say to Lara - he thought he would sound dumb if he thanked her, but he would look like an ungrateful douche if he said nothing. He'd also look  _extra_ dipshitty if he kept standing there dumbfounded like a halfwit. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck as she crouched down to the wolf carcasses, slicing them open with the head of her arrow, presumably collecting salvage. Alex looked away, until she stood up and soldiered on, continuing to follow the path.

"Hey," Alex called, stopping. She turned around, her lips parted and her eyebrows raised. "Thanks for saving my ass. Would've been a goner if it wasn't for you."

He felt his face heat up as he said that, a little humiliated at how he was pitying himself in front of her. She smiled slightly and nodded in response, turning back around.

She walked up a small, dilapidated stone staircase, hanging a right, and walking up another. Muted, orange light poured out of a nearby lantern, and Lara walked closer, more light coming into view. In the distance were two blue barrels, a heap of firewood set ablaze inside them, creating their own orangey glow. They revealed a large, wooden gate with what looked like two metal wheel cranks at either side of it. There were also white figures, sketched in what appeared to be a chalk-like substance, on the gate. Lara squinted at them as she slowly walked closer, wondering if they were somewhat related to the other markings she's seen around the island so far.

Before her mind could trail off in that direction, she noticed someone standing in front of the gate, mumbling to themselves about how fascinating this or that was. As she got closer, she saw it was Whitman, gazing up at the gate with his finger wrapped around his chin.

Alex was surprised to see him still here, but at the same time, he wasn't. Of course he'd want to stay behind for the sake of exploring the insanity that this island had to offer, and of course the rest of the group would let him, if it meant that they wouldn't have to hear him yammer away about its history and how much of a marvel it is.

Whitman turned around, his arms crossed. "Oh! Lara, Alex. Surprise to see you here." He smiled fleetingly, the smile not getting the chance to reach his eyes. He gestured towards the figures. "These figures are fascinating." He crowed.

"I've seen these before," Lara mused, taking a close glance at the figures. "They must be ritualistic."

Alex looked like a confused dog at the bottom of the steps, his head cocked to one side. But he decided against butting in their conversation - he's never really understood much about archaeology, mythology, or any kind of history besides U.S. history, for that matter. Which is why he'd be as good as a match for Lara as fire and water - he'd always find a way to mess up certain things and put her fire out.

"This female image is  _particularly_ interesting." Whitman said, gesturing towards the largest figure in the middle, beaming.

Lara reached towards it to graze the figure with her fingertips, and pulled them back. Sure enough, the figure left a powdery residue. She knew there would have to be more people like the crazy scavenger she had dealt with just a few hours ago, worshipping this figure. But who was this, exactly? Who were they worshipping? Lara had so many questions about this island, but at least she knew more than poor Alex, who was reduced to standing there like a half-wit again.

"By those islanders, no doubt," Whitman began, his hands clasped together as he glanced at the two metal wheels at the sides of the gate. "Judging by the wrecks out there, they were once like us, survivors." He chuckled. "Remarkable!"

Lara was put off by his 'humor.'  _Once_ like us. "Yes, well, let's hope we don't become murderers, too."

Alex had to agree with her on that one.

Whitman seemed to ignore her. "See if you can work the other one." He told her, his hand gripping the handle on the right crank, and his other hand pointing to the left crank.

Lara took her makeshift axe in her hands upon noticing the handle was missing. She decided to use the axe as a handle to turn the wheel, placing the knob of it into the circular well where the handle was supposed to be. She then braced her hands tightly on the shaft, hunching her back to give herself more leverage.

Alex still stood there, just about as useful as male nipples. But it's not like he wasn't already used to it.

"Together." Whitman grunted. They simultaneously began to push on the handles, but Lara's axe was beginning to snap.

"Shit," She hissed. "It won't take the force. I'll have to find something sturdier to turn it with."

Whitman grinned impishly again, clasping his hands together. "Must be something around here we can use." He returned his attention to the figures, gazing up at them like a small boy who's just met his favorite superhero, as if Lara was never there. "Remarkable."

_Ever the helper._

When Lara turned around, Alex was still standing there at the bottom of the stairs, an apologetic look on his face. Lara sighed, walking towards him.

"I guess he's leaving us to it." She told him quietly, looking out towards the far right side of the forest, the large, faded torii towering over the path. There had to be more wolves on the prowl around there.

"Yeah," Alex scoffed. "Always the one leaving us to do the dirty work, while he just drools over everything."  _Oh, Alex, you hypocrite. Like you weren't doing the same with Lara._

"Let's just get it over with," She sighed, shuffling her feet. "Do you want to split up?" She turned towards him. Fear flashed briefly in her eyes, as if pleading him to not say yes. But Alex wasn't looking at her. He didn't quite know what to say.

He wanted to stay with her for obvious reasons, but considering what had happened with the wolves before, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to protect her as he had intended. Yet, at the same time, if he went alone, he certainly wouldn't be able to protect  _himself_ , and  _that_  he was sure of. However, he didn't want Lara to view him as the overly-dependent, waste of space, good-for-nothing liability. So, he considered tagging along with her so that her company would help him summon the confidence to actually defend himself, and her, whose well-being he cared more about than his own.

"I'd rather go with you, if you don't mind." Alex said casually, burrowing his hands in his pockets.

No, Lara didn't mind. In fact, she almost wanted to kiss Alex for being the first person that wouldn't leave her alone to do anything, no matter what. She was so grateful for the sense of comfort he gave her just by being in her company, and even if he wasn't the best at defending himself. Lara was never the best at defending herself, either, especially before she arrived on this island, but she did learn, and she knew Alex would, too. Even if it was from her.

Lara just nodded, and began to walk towards the torii, hoping she would get lucky and find a few salvage crates. She followed the path, walking under a large cherry blossom tree whose branches stretched out over her head. Alex followed closely behind, wondering if Lara was feeling like she was going to piss herself just like he was. He looked from left to right consistently like a paranoid pedestrian, his chin tucked into his collar, expecting a wolf to just creep up on them at any minute.

And as he heard a snarl from behind them, he was 110% convinced that he had the absolute worst luck in the entire universe.

Again, the damned bullies came in a pair, one of them sprinting towards Lara before she could even ready her bow.

_Now's my chance._

It was like a scene from some crappy, low-budget action movie - everything seemed to enter this cinematic slow motion. Alex raised his pistol as he watched the thing's paws lift from the ground at a snail's pace, outstretched towards Lara, but he would die before he'd let it hurt her. He squeezed the trigger, a bang ripping through his eardrums, and the recoil jolting him back slightly, watching the wolf collapse to the ground, dead as a doorknob.

_I just fired a gun. An actual gun._

Before he, or maybe even Lara, had time to admire his handiwork, and fully digest what neither of them thought would actually happen, he spun around on his heel and fired another shot at the other wolf, killing it as well.

Lara's bow was still at her back.

Her face was overcome with astonishment, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Lara was never judgmental of other people based on her first look at them, but she hadn't really expected someone like Alex to grasp the concept of kill or be killed that easily. Or grasp the concept of how to fire a gun when the only guns he's ever actually fired were the ones on first person shooters. Alex almost smiled smugly at her reaction, and was about to dish out some quip about how she should expect the unexpected, but decided to take a more modest and humble approach.

"I - I did it." He gasped in expertly executed disbelief, being cautious to express as much astonishment as she had.

Lara nodded imperceptibly, her astounded expression never leaving her face. "You did," She breathed. Suddenly, her expression broke out into a wide, genuine smile. "I'm proud of you."

Alex blushed as a bashful smile of his own spread across his face, looking away and resisting the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Lara never took her eyes off him, and his blushing intensified when he looked back and noticed that for himself. They spent the next minute or so just smiling at each other like giddy middle schoolers, before Lara broke the mutual gaze, looking further down the hill.

"We should get going." She told him, turning around and gutting the wolves for salvage, and beginning to lead the way down the slope, as though nothing had happened.

"Right." Alex responded, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of his tone.

They walked past a fallen tree before seeing some more dilapidated steps up ahead, leading up to what looked like a shrine. Noticing a salvage crate at the right side of the steps, Lara dashed towards it.

"Another shrine." Lara whispered to herself, prying the crate open with her axe.

Collecting the salvage and heading up the steps, she saw that the stone figure in the center of the shrine was crumbling and in ruins, some of its remnants discarded across its lap. Now, in its current state, it was difficult to decipher the figure's identity.

"Who are they worshipping?" She wondered aloud, spotting another salvage crate right next to the statue. She pried the crate open, pocketed the salvage, and stood up, mumbling, "Right, that should do it. Let's hope we don't run into any more wolves on our way back."

Alex chuckled with a hint of uneasiness as Lara descended the staircase, allowing her to lead the way again. "Let's hope you don't jinx it, now."

Lara smiled and shook her head jokingly, thumbing at her bowstring just in case. They walked back up to the camp in silence, Alex's arm unintentionally taut against his pistol holster.

Lara seemed to have a lot more luck than he did, so she may not jinx anything, but most likely not as much luck as he would think, now that he was with her. He wished he wasn't such a screw-up, that he was close enough to her that he didn't have to think of what he was going to say before he said it. Because, if he was, they'd be making so much light of this situation, constantly cracking jokes and laughing at pointless shit with no inhibitions whatsoever. His jokes were funny, if you allowed yourself to hear them, and he was thinking Lara wouldn't appreciate them, since just  _talking_  to her was like stepping into a minefield. One misstep, and you are  _out of there._  Bye. Adios. Sayonara. Do svidaniya. If he were closer to her, that minefield would be  _so_ much easier to navigate.

_You want to get closer to Lara, don't you, Alex? Why don't you go out on a limb and talk to her, to alleviate the awkward, maybe?_

Finally, his conscience was actually becoming somewhat helpful instead of berating for once. Still, he hesitated.

"So," Alex began as they walked back up the gentle slope of the hill, gulping as he took his first step into the minefield. "When do you think we'll be seeing some action here?" He had thought it was an innocent question, but unbeknownst to him, he had just unearthed some pretty bad memories that Lara was trying so hard to bury into nonexistence.

Lara clenched her jaw, pressing her lips into a hard line, and kept quiet. She had seen enough 'action', and she wanted to see no more. All she wanted was to go home and forget everything that had happened on this island. When she kept silent for a good few seconds after Alex asked, he could almost feel the cost of his misstep in the minefield setting off a chain reaction of explosions around him.  _Game over._ He sighed, deciding it was best if he just remained quiet.

Soon enough, they returned to the camp, Lara heading over to the campfire and sitting in front of it with her legs crossed. She removed all the salvage from her pockets, setting it down on the space of ground before her legs. She fumbled with the parts for a bit, trying to figure out which part would go where, like a jigsaw puzzle. It all looked pretty complicated to Alex. But before he knew it, Lara was breezing through this, as if they were merely a bunch of lego pieces. Little time passed before she was done. She clutched the finished product in her hand - a reinforced pry axe that actually looked legitimate, like it could be sold in a retail hardware store. Alex couldn't be more impressed. He knew he'd never last a day on this island without someone like Lara.

She rose from her spot at the campfire, heading to the gate with the axe in hand. Whitman, who was still marvelling at the gate, looked over his shoulder.

"Alright, Lara? Shall we give it a go, then?" He asked her, walking towards the right crank.

Lara nodded. "Let's do this, doctor."

"Whenever you're ready."

She went up to the left crank, thrusting the knob of the axe into the well as she had done before, and moving it in a circular motion as the gate began to rise. She continued circling the knob around the well until the gate was more than high enough for all three of them to pass through, the newly revealed path leading them deeper into the forest.

She removed her axe from the well as Whitman gestured at the two of them to follow him, the gate slowly beginning to close. Alex ran up the stairs and stood behind Lara, who followed Whitman through the gate. Whitman held the gate for Alex, and let it go once Alex was through.

The gate hit the ground with a light thud. Whitman walked ahead, stopping at a lantern to light his torch.

"That female figure on the gate," Whitman began.

Lara stopped to light her own torch, and Whitman stopped as well, waiting for her at the steps. Once it was lit, they continued walking. Alex decided to keep to his word, and stay quiet for the duration of their conversation. Not just because he didn't want to make things worse for the relationship he'd hoped to have with Lara, but because he was ignorant on this sort of thing, and didn't want to ask any stupid questions that he knew would receive stupid answers. They were educated enough to know what they were talking about, so he felt it wise to just keep them to it without him interrupting.

"Given the age of the symbols, it could be the Sun Queen."

"Himiko?" Lara wondered, furrowing her brows.  _Could_  it be the Sun Queen? Could she have been the figure left in shambles at the shrine she saw earlier? The deity that the people on this island were worshipping?

"Are you sure you're not channeling Sam, Dr. Whitman?" She asked sternly, a hint of teasing in her tone.

"Well, there's no doubt, Himiko had power. Some say shamanistic. Elemental!" He exclaimed.

As they walked, the light of their torches revealed various intricate carvings etched on a stone wall. As much as she wanted to stay and theorize their origins for a while, and try to decode their cryptic characteristics, Roth was her priority for now. Along with high-tailing it out of this crazy place.

"A woman wields that much power, and sooner or later it gets called witchcraft." Lara deadpans.

They passed more carvings, and, judging by the ever-growing number of torii they walked through, Lara knew there must be another shrine nearby.

"We shouldn't discount anything, even what may seem to us, irrational. We still have much to learn about the world." He assured her.

Lara sighed, her stomach churning at the familiarity of Whitman's words. "You sound like my father."

"It could be one hell of a story, Lara."

Alex rolled his eyes. There he goes, with the showbiz and the 'stories'. Alex thought that that was pretty much all he was in it for. The stories, and the influx of money that goes with them. Alex didn't quite trust him. He'd probably be the type of person to leave the entire group to perish on this island if it meant he got to go back home with a ton of cash, interviewers, and public attention waiting for him. But even if they had survived, he'd still find a way back to civilization and manage to make up a story about how 'deeply saddened' he was that his colleagues have 'died', to earn a few more bucks for sympathy.

"Not if we don't live to tell it." Lara mutters.

The stone barrier that burrowed them into the path began to open up, the soft, distant glow of lit candles just ahead of them. Lara parted her lips in slight perplexity, plodding towards the candles, and noticing another stone figure sitting behind them, most of them unlit or toppled over. This must've been the completed, miniature version of the statue she saw at the shrine earlier.

"Incredible!" Whitman marveled. "It  _is_ Himiko!"

Lara was still confused. "But look, the bowl, the candles," She placed a hand over them, her skin absorbing their warmth, "Why is she still being worshipped?"

"This island, it must've once been a part of Yamatai! You were right, Lara!" Whitman concluded, and although Alex wasn't facing him, he could sense the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. Lara, who was looking straight at him, didn't seem to see them.

"The lost kingdom!" She breathed in disbelief.

"It's like finding Atlantis."

"But this is real, Dr. Whitman. We're not standing on a myth." Lara retorted dryly.

"No, we're standing on a gold mine!" Now, Alex wasn't the only one who saw the dollar signs.

Before Lara could say anything else, a rustle sounded in the trees nearby, and Alex stiffened, his hand slowly sliding up to his pistol holster. Whitman and Lara turned around, Lara's heart racing. An eccentrically-dressed older male emerged from the bushes.

"Come, quickly. Your friends are hurt." The man said in a thick, foreign accent, raising both his hands in defense when Whitman instinctively aimed his pistol at him, but not a trace of fear was expressed on his face.

"Yes, probably by them!" Lara whispered, scrutinizing the man's blank expression.

"Get back!" Whitman warned, his finger resting against the trigger. Alex had his own gun trained on the strange man, and, unlike Whitman, wasn't afraid to actually shoot if he had to. Still, Alex wasn't a 'shoot now, ask questions later' kind of guy.

"They can't be trusted!" Lara hissed. Whitman veered his aim towards another man with his bow aimed towards Lara, standing on a ledge above them. Alex, following Whitman's aim, was just about to pull the trigger, before hearing the pistol click in noncompliance.  _Jesus tap-dancing Christ. No more bullets._

Really, Reyes? Giving Alex a virtually useless pistol with only  _two goddamn bullets?_ Alex gritted his teeth, knowing that Reyes was only giving him such a useless weapon because she knew he'd be too much of a pussy to actually put it to use. This is what he gets for trying to prove himself - another chance to prove himself, that was now spoiled. The irony of it all fucking sucked.

"You still have a gun." Lara implored, fear and desperation causing the gasps and faults in her speech. Whitman, with his gun still pointed at the man, looked over his shoulder, eyes closed, as if in thought, and his jaw set.

"I don't want any trouble," He began.

Lara gaped. "No."

Alex was appalled. "What are you  _doing_?" Was he really considering surrendering to these people? They were unforgivable, and would betray you with the given chance. Lara knew that. She hated the fact that her best friend had to pay the price for her to find that out, but she knew that.

"We'll come," Whitman held the pistol in his right hand, stretching both his arms out in surrender. His finger no longer rested on the trigger.

"Nooo!" Lara whined, her face stricken with horror. She looked to Alex with pleading eyes, who was still trying to make it seem as though his gun was loaded, but he just shook his head hopelessly.

"But I insist that afterwards, you take us to whoever's in charge!" Whitman should've known better. They would rather just kill them all and be done with it. The strange man's lips were almost curling into a sinister smile, albeit imperceptible in Whitman's eyes. It was like a mouse trying to negotiate with a horde of starving cats.

"What are you doing?" Lara whimpered.

"Be quiet." Whitman had tried to sound firm, but his voice had faltered slightly. Talk about all bark and no bite. This high-and-mighty facade wasn't working for him at all. No one feared him, and no one was willing to vouch for him, or do what he said.

"No! No!" Lara shouted, her breath catching in her throat as she noticed the man on the ledge, his arrow still poised at her.

"I'm handling this!" Whitman yelled, taking small steps away from the pistol that he had gingerly placed on the ground. He's already made his point - everyone knew he was never going to use the pistol, anyway. Even Alex could've put it to better use. What a waste. It took all of Alex's self-control and dignity to not simply step over and knock him the hell out for talking a bunch of bullshit and acting like he had this under control, just so these crazy men wouldn't do it first.

Lara reached for her bow and haphazardly attempted to aim it at the man on the ledge, but she was a second too late. A man came up from behind her and pinned her to the ground, taking her by surprise and making the bow tumble out of her hands. He clenched her arms tightly with his bandaged hands as she yelped and squirmed, thrashing about like a fish out of water.

"No, please!" Whitman pleaded. His plea was futile, since he had done nothing to try to stop Lara's captor.

Alex gritted his teeth with such intensity his jaw began to throb. He was absolutely fed up with Whitman, trying to pass himself off as the strong, fearless leader when he had done nothing fully deserving of that title. It was time someone took charge, and Alex decided he would be that someone.

"Get off!" Lara shrieked, continuing to wriggle out of the man's grip. However, it was no use - he was much too strong, and his vise-like grip on her arms was beginning to make them throb with the lack of blood circulating through them. But Alex wasn't going to allow himself to just sit back and watch Lara suffer.

He was going to allow himself to make the person responsible for her suffering, suffer themselves.

He quickly sidestepped towards the man, pulling his left arm back behind his face. His left hand was curled up in a fist, his thumb on the outside of his fingers. Taking a solid step with his left foot, he lunged forward, his fist colliding with the man's left eye. The deafening crack of bones beneath Alex's fist, snapping effortlessly like balsa wood, was punctuated with the man's anguished howl.

He reflexively released Lara from his grip and raised his hands to cup his now swollen eye, and Lara took the opportunity to skitter away. But she couldn't move far enough. The man, momentarily dazed and blinded with rage, pain, and interminable streams of blood, swiped his leg across the ground to trip Alex, and regained his grip on Lara.

As Alex landed on the grass with a muffled thud, his head spinning for a brief second, he cursed himself for being so caught up in his disbelief that he had  _actually_ punched someone, for not focusing. If he had focused, he'd be able to dodge the guy's foot and whale on him until he was out cold. Give him what he deserved for hurting Lara.

But before he could get up, the guy from earlier with the accent came over, said something in his native language, and kicked Alex's chin up with the sole of his boot. Pain erupted in his chin as his head was yanked up, the impact all but beneficial to his already gritted teeth. His now crooked glasses pushed up to his forehead, and his chin throbbed.

"No! Please, don't hurt him!" Lara sobbed, her struggling incessant, even as her captor began to tie her hands behind her back.

The man crouched down, muttering what would seem to be insults in his language, and began to throw punch after punch on Alex's face, until Lara's protests and pleas for the man to stop hurting Alex were beginning to sound far away, and Whitman's faux-reassuring statements were echoing into nothingness. The gentle sliding of Alex's glasses from his forehead contrasted greatly against the profound bursts of pain and blood sprouting around his face, and he felt himself drifting away, falling, without an end to be seen. He was slowly losing himself, losing consciousness. Losing feeling.

Losing Lara.

Until there was nothing more to feel, and nothing more to lose.

Nothing but black.


	3. A Shoulder to Cry On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Long time no see!
> 
> I'm sorry that you all had to wait this long for the next chapter. I had to wait three weeks after finally completing this chapter to find a new beta reader to edit this, so I apologize for any inconvenience or added suspense this may have caused you, and I thank you for your immense patience.
> 
> I'd also like to thank you all for your positive, and constructive, reviews, even though I felt guilty everytime I got a review compelling me to continue, due to my lack of free time that would not allow me to write often. Which is why I must lay this down on you all; chapter 4 may be the final chapter in this series.
> 
> -insert groaning audience-
> 
> I'm not ending it just because I don't want you to be held in suspense for too long anymore, but because each idea I think of, has some sort of plot hole. Plus, I don't think that this story arc was meant to be carried on for long, anyway.
> 
> But, don't fret! Keep on the lookout for more Alexara works coming soon, given I have the time and the plot kinks worked out, of course!
> 
> Enjoy! x

The air is heavy with the smell of smoke.

This is the first thing that Alex's brain takes note of as he slowly regains consciousness; not how much his head is spinning like a top, not how much his chin is throbbing, not where he was, not how wet his face feels. The smell of smoke.

That should've flared up a Metal Gear Solid exclamation point in his head, and make him want to get the hell out of there, but his brain was still sluggishly attempting to obtain a firm grip on his surroundings, and it wasn't in full control of his limbs and extremities yet. The only thing that his brain could allow itself to pay attention to was the smoke, pure and simple. It stood out to him the most.

It was as though someone had clicked the refresh button on Internet Explorer with a crappy dial-up internet connection - the process was so slow, it was almost frustrating. Still, slowly, but surely, his senses managed to resurface one by one, little by little, sounds and sights gradually blooming into his brain like lilies after heavy rain.

Sensations were coming back to him as well, like the heat and humidity of the air washing over his body, the slight prickly feeling of the grass beneath him, the slow trickle of something wet - sweat, or maybe blood - running down his neck, and the slow, rhythmic pang of his heart against his chest.

Then, all of a sudden, Lara. Flashing into his mind as sudden as lightning.

He didn't quite remember everything that had happened before he was knocked out, but whatever was going on, he hoped she was okay. Without her, he'd never escape this island alive. He hazily thought about her bravery, her resilience, and how she had a pretty gnarly wound in the side to prove that. Alex never would've been able to survive something like that, or even let himself do so. Hell, he can't even pull himself through  _this_ , something absolutely pathetic and ridiculous if compared to Lara's injuries. Still, even if they weren't, they'd still be pretty ridiculous.

He would've thought about Lara some more, and how much he admired her and valued her bravery and hoped she was okay and all that jazz, but the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears was almost too much to bear.

Until the ringing stopped, replaced by the gentle whispers of footsteps across the grass.

Alex stilled instinctively, breathing shallowly through his nose as the footsteps neared him. Hopefully it was someone coming to help him - maybe Lara, or.. jeez. Who was he kidding? Nobody's going to keep holding his hand through everything, especially not Lara. At least she had known that for herself. But Alex? Pfft.

He decided to keep his eyes closed to give off the impression that he was dead, only opening them if the person was someone he trusted. Thankfully, he felt enough blood on his face to help him out with that, so he figured he'd be alright.

The footsteps came closer as Alex monitored his breathing, keeping his eyes shut tight, but not tight to the extent that it was obvious he was faking his death - just tight enough to ensure that he wouldn't flick them open unintentionally. Naturally, since he couldn't see what was going on, he would have to rely on his ears.

"Damn," An unfamiliar voice began. "The hell do you think happened to this guy?"

If this wasn't a life or death situation, Alex would be laughing his ass off at their sheer gullibility right about now. He had to bite his tongue to keep from doing so.

"I dunno," Another unfamiliar voice. "Do you think he's dead?"

"Nah," the first voice said. "But he's definitely out, that's for sure."

_Damn. Smarter than they look - or sound, rather._

"Should we kill him?" The second voice asked, cocking a gun. Alex tried hard not to visibly cringe at the sound, instead keeping himself as calm as possible, on the slim chance that they may reconsider thinking that he was still alive.

"No," the first voice said, and Alex almost wanted to kiss him, despite the circumstances. "Let him get swallowed up by the fire. Judging by all the blood and bruising on his face, he's not gonna wake up in time, anyway. Might as well save the ammo."

Alex would've scoffed, had he been able to make a sound. If they were convinced that was gonna happen to him, then, they'd have another think coming.

He didn't hear anything coming out of the second guy's mouth, so he figured he must've agreed. Yet, a silent pause told him they weren't walking away, which unsettled him. What if they were just  _staring_ at him, looking for signs of life? He wasn't about to open his eyes and check, however.

The silence was broken when the first man spoke up once more. "Nikolai will give us hell for getting distracted out here and not looking for the girl. We should go."

_The girl?_ Lara? Sam? Were they okay? Well, obviously they wouldn't be if they were being looked for.

But none of it made sense in Alex's head - it was all fuzzy, and he still had trouble piecing together how and when he got here, or where he even was. He knew he was still on Yamatai, that he was sure of - but who were these men? What did they want with Lara? Where had they taken her?

There was one other thing he was sure of - he had to find her, get the hell out of here, and find the others.

There was another pause, but after a few seconds, Alex heard footsteps; this time, moving farther from him. He let out a soft sigh of relief, and he was just about to get himself off the ground, thinking they were out of eyeshot, or earshot, for that matter, but the first man spoke up yet again. Still, at least his voice sounded farther than it was before.

"I'll go join the rest to look for the girl. You stand guard here in case she comes by."

Another pause. The man must've agreed, again. They seemed to be a little too far for Alex to determine whether or not they were walking farther away from him, so they obviously wouldn't see him opening his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he opened them slowly, noting that the smell of smoke was much more pungent than it originally was, and the air was much heavier. He didn't have to look around to know that the fire was spreading - and that he should get the hell out of here.

Surely enough, the second man was standing guard several feet away from where Alex was lying, his back facing him. The man shone a flashlight on the ground before him, staring blankly into the trees, as if expecting Lara to just crawl out of them. His eccentric, hobo-like apparel rang familiar in Alex's head somehow, like deja vu. But just as soon as the slight memory came, it was gone.

Alex knew all too well that he could never escape from this guy without making the slightest bit of noise, even with the guy standing maybe a school bus' length away from him. So, he'd have to take him out, but he had no weapons on him, and he's never actually punched someone hard enough to knock them out. With his mind fixated on weapons, he vaguely remembered Reyes placing a pistol in his hand, but didn't know where the hell it could've gone off to.

_Maybe one of these guys has it,_  Alex thought.  _Oh, God. Reyes is really gonna have my ass. It's not like she doesn't already hate me enough._

But even if he had the pistol, he couldn't shoot him, because it'd make a lot of noise, and of course, noise equals unneeded attention. There's already a ton of these guys on the prowl looking for Lara, judging by the distant voices around him barking out orders. So, yes, he has to take this guy out, that he knows - but quietly.

And as he stood and slowly edged towards the unsuspecting man, he hoped years of memorizing action movies as a kid wouldn't fail him now.

Hooking his right forearm under the man's chin, Alex felt the man start, his pulse racing just beneath his wrist. The man's body began to squirm like a skittish animal, loud choking noises rising from his throat as his hands came up to claw at Alex's sleeved arm, in feeble attempts to free himself. Alex ignored it, cursing under his breath. He'd have to shut this guy up quick before someone saw, or heard. But they seemed too busy shouting orders at each other to even bat an eye.

He lifted his left hand up and rested his palm at the man's left temple, pressing his arm harder against the man's throat. Alex tugged to the side with the man's neck still tucked under his forearm, resulting in a small crack, but it didn't stop the man's choking, clawing, or struggling.  _Damn you, Hollywood,_ Alex thought,  _and your unrealistic methods of killing people._

"Hey, you alright, out there?" A man yelled warily, a dim beam of light shining onto a tree nearby, narrowly missing the spot where Alex was.

Alex bristled, quickly placing a hand over the man's mouth in panic. He cringed at the light spittle beading his palm, but his panic managed to overcome his discomfort.

"Don't worry, it's probably just Hacky Jack hacking up a storm, as usual. He always does this." Another man yelled back, exasperation lining his tone.

Another guy to mark down on Alex's list of people to kiss, because they've saved his ass with their stupidity.

But before that guy could suspect something other than Hacky Jack, Alex knew he had to try something else, because, obviously, this wasn't working. But at least he made some sort of impact - that crack didn't just come out because it felt like it. It was then that a sharp object prodded at Alex's left hip, poked at him through his shirt, and he knew now what he had to try.

Removing his hand from the man's mouth and pressing his face into a tree so his choking was muffled, he gripped the object's handle, lifting it from its holster. It seemed to be an axe of some sort - not crude, by any means. Industrial, actually. But he was wasting precious time by trying to focus on what it looked like. From there, he reached across the man's torso and plunged the axe into the man's stomach, and, with a start, the choking noises stopped abruptly.

With his eyes shut so tightly he thought it would pain him to open them again, Alex continued to push into the man's flesh with the axe, until he was almost sure the blade would jut out of his back. Then, he stopped, as the man's weight began to bear down on him. Alex stepped to the side, the axe slipping out of his fingers, allowing the man to fall like timber to the nearly shin-high grass with a muffled thud.

His lifeless face was frozen in a state of horror; his unseeing eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. Just under the axe, a large blotch of deep scarlet tainted the dull gray of his cargo jacket, slowly swallowing up surrounding parts of the fabric.

Alex stepped back with his eyes wide, horrified with what he had done. He, Alex run-home-to-his-mommy-if-he-saw-a-gun Weiss, had just ended the life of someone who was just alive and breathing moments ago.

He felt the acrid taste of bile rising up in his throat just thinking about the life and the family this guy could've left behind, the life and the family he'd never be able to revisit ever again. At least on this island, you'd have a chance to go back. But now, Alex had taken that chance, which was most likely already pretty slim, away. He knew he'd have to make drastic decisions like this when it came to surviving, but damn, if it didn't make him feel guilty.

It made him almost want to give himself up to these men, who were still none the wiser about what had just happened, but that would be stupid. He didn't kill this man for no good reason. Instead of moping about, which wouldn't fix anything, he decided to tell himself that he had to do whatever he could to survive, and that this man would've done the same, if he were in Alex's shoes.

With that thought circling his mind, he bent down to retrieve the axe and a pistol from the man's body, and continued on, bending his knees and becoming one with the shadows.

If Alex had ever complained to anyone in the past with how much his back hurt from spending a large majority of his day wreaking havoc on his computer, well, he'd definitely been a baby then.

Because not even a stubborn chair at his back for over 12 hours a day could cause more back pain than sneaking around the dense wilderness, scouring with men who thirsted the blood of those who opposed them, with his back bent forward.

He hadn't even been walking that long, and his back - and legs, for that matter - were practically screaming at him to stand upright. But he knew he had to stay as inconspicuous as possible, if he didn't want the beam of a nearby flashlight to give even his foot away to these men. He didn't have to listen to the cacophonous orchestra of anguished shouts, gunshots, and frantic commands to know that they were killing people, and he wasn't about to earn a VIP spot on their blacklist. So, he kept his steps cautious and quiet, and his upper body hunched low, to avoid even the slightest glint of light and to evade the passing strides of the men around him.

The air had become much warmer and more humid, which evoked the beginnings of sweat moistening his neck, and added to his discomfort and irritability. The nervousness of possibly getting caught didn't help matters either, nor did the restlessness of his heart. It made it more of an ordeal to maintain himself in his position, without slowing down or risking getting caught.

The smell of smoke had become stronger, as well. Small amber flurries began to appear, fluttering through the sky as though they were alive, like a swarm of fireflies that emitted a lasting, orangey glow. They reminded him of snow.  _Snow._

_Home._

Before going to uni in England, he'd lived in New Jersey, where the winters were often brutal, and the snow incessant, if not annoying. He'd hated the snow, because it had made his father force his younger self off of the computer to go out and shovel.

Even though he'd hated giving up his computer for the sake of shoveling, he'd found himself enjoying his time outside when he was finished. Making snow angels and snowmen, gathering snowflakes on his tongue, and retreating inside for a warm mug of homemade hot chocolate; it had always made him go from hating the snow, to not minding it as much.

It still snowed in England, but it never felt like home. The rain would soon come, and it wouldn't take long for the fluffy, white snow to turn into gray slush. He also lived in an apartment - a 'flat' was what they called it, in the heart of London - so he didn't have a backyard to be able to enjoy himself in, like he had when he was younger.

He'd never yearned for home like this in years, but he knew he couldn't come back until he 'became a somebody in life, and not just a loner tech addict', as his father had put it. He knew his father would probably laugh at what technology had gotten him into now, and say it served him right. He'd probably laugh harder upon finding out that it had also gotten him in deep shit with the law.

But he was doing what he loved, what he was good at, wasn't he? A lot of kids he went to school with back at home were good at sports, specific subjects, singing, dancing, et cetera. Others were good at breaking hearts. Mind you, none of these things were Alex's strong suits. Still, what he was good at wasn't what everyone was good at, which was the beauty of it.

But, maybe now, he could be able to add 'sneaking past oblivious men with guns and flashlights' to his meager list of talents. Not too many people are good at  _that_ , now, are they?

He continued to walk through the forest, letting his mind revisit his childhood and his life before his parents shipped him off to England, until he noticed that the trees around him were beginning to thin out. His instinct told him to straighten, or, his back and legs, rather, but, judging by the heightened amount and volume of commands and voices, there were more men out here in the open than in the forest. So, he stayed low, keeping behind a large slab of wood.

Some of the men were still questioning the girl's life and/or her whereabouts, and Alex thought that whoever the girl in question was, she was pretty good at hiding if she could keep all these men in the dark for this long. Unless she's already escaped. Or, worse, dead. But he couldn't worry too much about that. He'd either find her, a way out, or both.

Until he heard the sharp report of a gun firing nearby, unlike the other distant gunshots that were few and far between, softly rumbling through the air like muffled claps of thunder. Alex jolted at its proximity, and it nearly startled him upright. Following the gunshot were coughing and wheezing noises, which made Alex's skin crawl. In his mind, it rang similar to the man he had killed.

Alex had never forgotten about him in the small span of time that passed, but, rather, placed him in the back of his mind, trying to focus on something else so the undying nausea churning in his stomach wouldn't weigh him down. Even though he had known he would've been dead if he had allowed himself to be caught by him, it did nothing to relieve the amount of guilt that sat tauntingly on his chest like lead.

Still, at least he didn't run into any other men patrolling the forest as close to him as that man was; he didn't want to have to do something drastic to add to the guilt that was already piling up.

But the wheezing and coughing didn't sound masculine. That was where the similarities ended. It sounded feminine; maybe even a bit juvenile. A woman.

He edged closer to the source of the sound, keeping low behind the stone barriers so the men wouldn't see him. There was a hollow, jagged wooden opening into some sort of stone structure, and the other side exposed a bloody head lying on the ground. Dead. Alex's breath hitched.

He had no intentions to get any closer, but that changed when he heard sobbing, and "Oh, God."

Lara. It couldn't be anyone else but Lara. She was who they were looking for. But, why?

Something told Alex she didn't know, either. Perhaps it was just logic.

A new sense of urgency racing through his body, he made his way through the opening, and was greeted by Lara's startled, blood-laden form, and the rest of the man's corpse.

Lara had a pistol clasped in between her hands, lowered in front of her pelvis. Her once luminous complexion was marred by the brownish-scarlet of dried streams of blood, and her eyes were widened, as though she were cornered prey. Strands of her dark hair whipped in the wind, and the fire flurries danced about her form, as though they were seized in her unyielding gravitational pull. And they definitely weren't alone in that.

Alex didn't have to look down to the pistol to know she had killed this man, and she, too, was feeling the exact same amount of guilt he had.

But guilt wasn't the only thing he was feeling. There was something else; this overwhelming urge to want to hug her.

So when she whispered his name in disbelief, he found himself walking towards her, not caring about the blood all over her, that most likely wasn't even hers. He didn't care if she went a day without showering. He just wanted to hug her, because even though he knew better than anyone else that she could tough out anything this island threw at her, he was still more than happy to see she was alright.

She stood there, frozen, even as Alex cocooned her body with his arms. She didn't immediately melt into his embrace, but she didn't push him away, either. She was just so startled; both at the fact that he's about to see her cry, which not many people have, and that she hadn't expected him to ever wake up. She didn't even think she'd see him again. Now that she has, she felt like coming undone. So, she did.

Her hands were still at her sides as she sobbed hysterically, afraid to touch him and discover that he was merely a mirage, a cruel trick her mind was playing on her, as though she hadn't already gone through enough. But the gentle press of his chest against hers felt real, as did the slight rise and fall of his shoulders with every short breath he took. Reluctantly, she gave in, burrowing her forehead into his shirt and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Alex felt himself gulp involuntarily at the contact, his heart teetering on the precipice of the next beat. He'd never held a woman like this; at least, not a woman he admired. But there was this doubt in his mind - something that questioned whether or not this was merely an admiration, or an infatuation.

He put the thought in the back of his head as he let go of her, mumbling to her that he was here, that he was okay. He wanted to know what had happened before he had blacked out, but he didn't want to put her in any more pain trying to make her remember, so he figured he'd ask her eventually, or he'd put two and two together himself.

She sighed deeply once she'd let go of him, looked down at the corpse solemnly, and bent down to retrieve her bow, placing it across her upper body. It was obvious she was trying to not think too much about what she had just done; Alex sure as hell knew how that felt. Still, to Alex's amazement, she soldiered on wordlessly. He didn't exactly know why he found that so amazing since he had done the same just minutes before, but he didn't try to question it.

He followed her past a burning Japanese temple, the heat, humidity, and smoke in the air more prominent than ever. The shouts, groans, and commands of the men around them were becoming more pronounced, as well; some, he could hear clearer than others.

A loud explosion thundered in the distance, resonating over the crackle of the flames and quaking the ground beneath their feet. He winced at the suddenness of the sound, following Lara's example by hunching over and creeping forward swiftly.

"They ran into the forest!" A man yelled. Even though he knew they weren't talking about him and Lara, it did nothing to stop the uneasy feeling through his body, and the sudden instinct to keep close to her - for their own good.

"Get me some light over here!"

After hanging a right, a flimsy-looking plank bridge lay across a small gap before them, and, without thinking about the absolute chaos around him, he darted across it with his knees still bent. He tried not to look out at the expanse of flaming structures and flashlight beams that were exposed to him at his right side, because, surely, that wasn't the only thing being exposed. But, even so, the men were obviously too busy minding the captives on their side of the land to notice anything amiss in the distance. Lara followed at a similar pace, also remaining undetected.

As they reached the other side, another man shouted, "Wait, there!" stopping them in their tracks completely. The only parts of their bodies that moved were their wide, cautious eyes and their racing hearts, seeking out anyone who may have caught them.

"It's not us," Lara whispered, making Alex groan in relief.

They continued to run up a gentle slope of dilapidated stone steps, hearing more commotion and anguished cries and grunts from below them. There was little wonder as to why these men hadn't seen them - there was too much happening around them for any of them to be able to drift off and notice anyone out of eyeshot trying to escape.

"Run! Run!" Someone shouted. It must've been a captive.

"Shut him up!" Another man shouted.

"Find the others.. come on, let's go!"

Okay,  _now_ they had to start hauling ass, because, surely, there'd be enough of these men to go around and do outside searches. And at least one of those men are bound to cross paths with Lara and Alex.

They loped across a wooden rope bridge at a faster pace, keeping so low to the ground, Alex's lower legs were beginning to ache with how much weight he had put on them, just like in the forest, and because of how fast he had to move them forward. But the mass of his upper body wasn't the only literal weight put on them - they also had to spar with the incessant temptation to stand upright.

Once arriving at the other side of the bridge, they slipped past another burning temple, this one slightly taller than the last one they saw. Alex bristled whenever he'd hear a man shout, "There!" when he located another captive, but pressed on anyway. They turned left past a lamp and ascended more steps, hearing the panicked pleading of a man nearby. However, the voice wasn't coming from below them - it was coming from the other side of the burning torii.

"Stay back! I'll shoot!" The man cried.

"Take him out." A callous voice responded. Alex gnashed his teeth and braced himself to hear the bang of a gun, only to hear choking noises. They were reminiscent to the man Lara had killed - and the man he, himself, had killed.

Pushing the thought to the back of his head and willing himself to lock it up there forever, never to be uncovered again, he looked back at Lara before proceeding, and the expression on her face threatened to tear his racing heart in two.

She gazed up at him in this terror that was so strong, it was almost tangible. Hell if it wasn't - he was feeling her pain as though it were his own. Her eyes were glazed with unshed, fear-invoked tears. She looked like she was about to cry, vomit, or both - he'd never seen her look this frightened before. Even though she still looked pretty horrified, there were traces of confusion lining her expression, silently asking why he's stopped them.

She had nodded in affirmation when he told her to stay behind until he gave the signal, but the same fearful expression remained, as if she knew he had no idea what he was up against. She'd wanted to stop him, but it was too late, now. He was already edging towards the ill-fated man's body with his pistol in hand, looking around warily for the men who had killed him. The best she can do now is try to intervene if he's really in trouble, which she was more than prepared to do.

Of course, that would work, if she actually had a usable weapon in which to help Alex with. She lacked one at the moment, her quiver empty and her newly-acquired pistol useless. She spotted a magazine lying on the ground, close to where Alex was walking, but she couldn't walk out there, now. He continued to walk forward slowly, but he soon earned the consequences for standing as an arrowhead swiped at his upper arm.

He shouted in pain, collapsing to the ground behind two wooden crates. Lara's chest tightened. She wanted desperately to run over there and get him out of harm's way, but it was already barrelling towards him, full force.

He sat up with his back against the crates, gnashing his teeth and assessing his wound. It wasn't as deep as he thought it would be, but the pain was unimaginable. Even some of the fabric of his shirt was torn. He's had some accidents with concrete sidewalks as a kid, when he used to ride his bike - without training wheels - and get thrown off, but this pain was like driving a shard of glass, dipped in rubbing alcohol, across your arm. Maybe even more so.

He felt the blood trickling down his arm as he feebly attempted to pull his shirt down, willing the tear in his shirt to disappear so the air wouldn't feel so frigid and unforgiving against his wound. It felt as though he were naked in frostbite-inducing temperatures, but even that seemed meager compared to the pain he was feeling.

"Got another one!" A voice yelled, shining a flashlight over a crate, but it wasn't close enough to expose Alex. "He went down over there."

As he tried to ignore the immense pain and profuse bleeding from his arm by looking elsewhere, his gaze fell upon a discarded magazine, most likely left by the man who had just been killed. He reached out for it slowly with his good arm, and after scrambling attempts to place it in the gun the correct way, he had successfully loaded it.

"Is he dead?" Another voice asked dubiously.

Swallowing deeply, as if it would keep his heart from leaping out of his mouth, he stood from his hiding place, aiming the gun at a man with a hoodie, and snidely remarked,

"Not really."

The man cursed at the sight of the gun and tried to run for cover, but his movements became sluggish as the world seemed to rotate slower in the heat of the moment. Alex fired two consecutive shots at the man's upper right leg. The impact of the shots reduced the man to a stoop, but it wasn't enough to take him out. Grinding his teeth, Alex fired a third shot right at the man's bowed head. His hand rose up to the wound as he groaned, his knees buckling before his body finally met the ground.

There was another man who had successfully taken cover behind another set of crates, and Alex aimed at the area, waiting, almost patiently, for him to expose himself in any way. His finger was poised on the trigger, a new-found determination and bravery beginning to settle in his mind before the flame of guilt had a chance to rekindle itself.

The man fixed his posture behind the crate, so Alex shot, but it didn't wound him. It must've just hit his backpack. The man slipped behind another crate, but he had made the mistake of exposing his head. Now, he'd pay for his ignorance - with his life.

Alex shot at the exposed head three times, but it took only one to kill him. Once the world began to breathe again, Alex waited for the guilt to ignite once more, but nothing came. Its dying embers smoldered some, but produced no flame.

And, then, he remembered Lara was watching.

His still hands became clammy again as he turned around to face her, taking in her nearly indiscernible expression. He thought she looked frightened.. but there was something else. Intrigued? No, that couldn't be right. Lara Croft, interested in  _Alex?_ What's next? God himself descending from heaven to transport them back to civilization, like some crappy deus ex machina?

But, if she was intrigued, he wasn't about to gloat over it. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, "Should we get going?"

Lara nodded, the obvious answer, since it wasn't like they had much of a choice. The fire was quickly spreading, from the mere woodpiles to the temples and settlements, and it would soon close in on them if they didn't escape fast enough. And, if the fire didn't kill them, it would be the shouting lunatic cultists below them that would.

Quickly, yet carefully, Lara looted the men of their ammunition with tentative fingers. She maneuvered around their wounds as she rifled through their various pockets and compartments, searching for magazines or arrows. She'd found some salvage parts, at least two magazines and four arrows from the first guy, and seven arrows and six magazines from the second. She split the ammunition with Alex, who was still standing beside her, and kept the arrows for herself.

Alex's arm was still throbbing with every step he took, and he wanted nothing more than to just sit down and wait for himself to stop bleeding, but he'd just be slowing them down that way, and they couldn't afford to do that.

He took the lead while gripping his arm, since he didn't want to lag behind. They arrived at a set of doors that led into a Japanese temple, the fires giving them little other choice on where to go. Alex didn't know where they would end up if they ever got out of there, but he knew he couldn't just sit there and wait to be discovered by the lunatics, or, even worse, burned to a crisp. Either way, they'd both probably prove to be painful ways to go. At least, with this temple, he'd have a fighting chance.

Or, at least, he thought he would.

Lara stepped beside Alex and reached her arms out to pull the door open, but her knuckles touched upon a metal bar just in front of the handles. She cursed under her breath, then remembered her pry axe, and wondered if it were strong enough to break through the latches. But she had nothing to lose if she tried, and nothing to gain if she didn't. So, she grabbed the axe from her pocket, hooked it onto the bar, and tugged with all her might, spreading her legs and planting her feet firmly on the wood beneath her to stabilize herself. Alex would never be able to do this, especially with his bad arm. Seriously, what would he do without Lara?

Lara nearly froze when she heard voices; more distinct than the shouting below them, but still somewhat far away.

"Find anything?" One asked.

"Not yet." Another responded.

_Took them long enough,_  Alex thought. But the rational, non-sardonic side of Alex knew they had to move, and fast. There was little room now, or time, to be mocking.

Lara gritted her teeth and tightened her grip around the axe as she continued to pull it through the latch, knowing that this door was the only thing standing between their escape. If these crazy men caught them, especially trying to escape, only God knows what they'd do to the both of them. She'd heard the cries of the men who were caught, how some of them pleaded for their lives, how they were corralled like animals, and how abruptly and ruthlessly they were killed thereafter.

The fury she felt towards these cultists, and the frustration that she could do next to nothing to save their captives, must've definitely contributed to the amount of force she was exerting upon the stubborn latch, since it gave shortly after she started thinking about them.

Once it gave, the right door creaked open, revealing a room bathed in pitch darkness. Lara anxiously stepped in, Alex following suit. But by the time she had pushed the door shut behind her, a single arrow had pierced it, illuminating the dark, barren room with a tiny pool of orange. And it didn't take a genius to see that this orange light was fire.

"Kill them!" Someone shouted from outside the door. The men must've caught them.

"Burn them out!"

Two more arrows pierced the wood just beside her arms, and it took virtually seconds for the entirety of the doors to catch fire, branching out to the walls of the temple at lightning speed. The fire forced her to step back and keep her body low to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

"You're gonna die in there!" The voice taunted brusquely.

Alex stepped back, coughing, as the flames troubled his sight. He looked around desperately for an out of some sort, but the smoke and the brown fog of debris falling upon them rendered his surroundings opaque. Despite that, he continued to look around, until he felt a strong tug at his shirt, and was pulled down to meet Lara's crouched stance.

"Get down!" She hissed, between seemingly unceasing coughs and wheezes. "Stay close to me."

She couldn't afford to lose him again, especially since they've only just found each other. Alex didn't want to lose her, either. Keeping his head low, he edged closer to Lara, and held his breath, almost releasing it completely upon seeing that Lara was kicking out some old, flimsy-looking wooden barriers.

With each kick, Alex heard the man continue to taunt them from outside, telling them to 'come out', obviously convinced that they wouldn't. Alex wanted nothing more than to punch the smug bastard - with his good arm, of course - square in the face.

Now that they were finally able to crawl out after three kicks, he'd punch him again, just for his insolence. And, as if this were some cliche scene out of an Indiana Jones or Mission Impossible movie, the spot in which they were initially cooped together, was now blockaded by the flames.

They stepped out on a wooden balcony of some sort; giving Lara the impression that this temple must've belonged to someone important. A noble, perhaps? Or maybe it was just a place of worship? But she didn't have time to theorize or muse about what this place was, or who it belonged to. In a few minutes, all of it will be gone, and there'll be nothing left to theorize upon. There'll also be no one left to theorize it, if she didn't move now. Her main concern was finding Roth and the others, and getting the hell out of here. She didn't even choose to dwell on who these cultists may have been. It's obvious they were crazy, and organized, so she wasn't going to stick around and ask questions.

Once they were both finally able to catch their breath, the two of them ran across the balcony, until they reached the edge of a fallen wooden rope bridge. Alex refused to look down the gap, knowing it would make him want to chicken out, and get him stuck here. He wouldn't blame Lara at all for leaving him behind. But now he knew he had to suck it up, and doing so wasn't about impressing her anymore.

Before he could even blink, he spotted Lara at the other side already, having jumped the gap as though it were a measly round of hopscotch on the elementary school playground. She was facing him, obviously waiting for him to follow suit. So, much to his still-throbbing arm's dismay, he did, doing his best to completely ignore the fact that there was no ground below to save him, should he fall or narrowly miss the other side.

He bit his lip hard as the heels of his hands made contact with the wooden ground, that resulted in pain surging up his bad arm.  _You have to move, you have to move, you have to move,_ his mind kept telling him, taking advantage of the fact that he really had no other choice but to do just that. Reluctantly, he stood, dusting his hands off with his pants, and trying his hardest to ignore the nagging ache.

Despite himself, he almost wanted to go back and check out the depth of the gap he had just jumped over, but that way, he'd start thinking a bit too highly of himself. Instead, he continued to follow Lara, a box of ammunition coming into view. As she bent down and opened the box, Alex looked around, hearing the familiar crackle of fire in the distance once more, but not as loudly as he had heard it before. This meant they hadn't gone that far; they may be just reaching the outskirts of the village. But at least that meant there'd be less men patrolling these areas, and, of course, there'd be a smaller chance of being caught.

Good. More time to be sluggish - if Lara would let him. But, he wasn't about to test the waters, fearing they'd already be searingly hot.

Once Lara had split more ammunition with Alex, she pressed on, walking up a sloped, stone path. He noticed another burning temple on higher ground, and more burning piles of wood surrounding the base of its hill. He knew they were getting farther because of the absence of gunfire, shouting, and indistinct commands, but bristled when he heard another set of voices. Of course he had to jinx himself - honestly, what was new?

"I don't hear anyone.. what do you think?" A man asked, his voice quieter and less domineering as compared to the others Alex had heard.

"They're probably dead," Another man said flatly.

"Keep looking.. check the other huts!" The first man responded authoritatively, and Alex found it hard to believe he was the same man who had just spoken of their unknown whereabouts so tentatively. He most likely wasn't - since most of these men sounded the exact same. That observation placed a few thoughtful questions in his head.

What if these men  _were_  all genetically-engineered clones, genetic mutations, or bots, as he had speculated on board the  _Endurance_? What if this island was the home of some sort of secret homicidal dynasty, with these human-looking bots as their servants?

If he told Lara all this, she might just start thinking he was speaking a different language, and think he was even more of a lunatic than these cultists, like she probably did on the ship. But what if there was some slim chance that his eccentric conspiracy theories were actually  _accurate?_

_No, Weiss,_ he thought,  _You're just being stupid. You know that there's no rational explanation for what's happening, so you're looking to make bullshit excuses for what you_ think _is happening, just so you'll have this false sense of closure. And, by doing so, you're making yourself look like a tool._

Wow, was his conscience an asshole. Well, at least it was honest, and right, most of the time. Honesty wasn't always a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry on top. But when was it ever?

After Lara had pocketed some arrows and aged, yellow pamphlets, they continued to follow the path, hiding behind a toppled wheelbarrow once they spotted someone shining a flashlight from above a ledge of some sort. The light pooled in an area that was dangerously close to where they were.

Lara removed her bow from over her shoulder with a solemn expression, knowing all too well what her only other option was if she wanted to avoid getting caught.

"Hey! Hey, you find any more down there?!" A voice shouted.

"No, nothing, but keep an eye out! The fires may send a few your way!"

As the man's flashlight scanned over the area, Lara smoothly reached behind her, drew an arrow from her quiver, fit it to the bowstring, and raised the bow, fully exposing herself from behind the wheelbarrow. Alex wanted to pull her back, scared to death that she'd be caught, but that would blow her chances to eliminate him. She clearly knew what she was doing and what she was up against. She could take care of herself; and, instead of whining about how he'll never be able to be her knight in shining armor, he hoped she could possibly show him the ropes on how he could be self-sufficient, as well. He couldn't depend on her forever.

Luckily, the man didn't see her - yet. Before he even had the chance to scan the area more thoroughly from above the overlook, she had already pulled the cord back as far as she could; and released it once he was standing before the shortest part of the mossy stone barrier.

Once the arrow made contact with his chest, his body lurched backwards. His momentum carried him forward as he tumbled over the barrier, letting him fall headfirst to the ground as if he weighed next to nothing. He was a pretty bulky-looking man, from what Lara could see. And she had just taken him out with a measly bow and arrow. However, she wondered if he were really dead. Maybe she had just narrowly missed his heart and he was still alive? No, that couldn't be. Even if she did miss, that fall alone would've been enough to cause some serious damage to his neck. And, she must've at least destroyed a major artery or vein or something with her arrow. That should've been enough.

After she had placed the bow back across her shoulder, she pressed on, feeling extra heat given off by the larger, burning temple just adjacent to the stone path. She walked to the man, who was as good as dead, thankfully. She began to loot his corpse with this minute sense of efficiency that wasn't there before, not moving her hands as slowly as she had with the first two men. However, it still proved to be a challenge; not because of the fear and guilt that still resided, albeit unwelcomed, in her mind, but because of the flaming woodpiles just next to him, and how quickly he would soon catch fire, as well. She surely could've avoided that if she pulled him out of the fire's path, but she had no desire to do so.

She increased her pace as the fire taunted her with crackling noises. She had retrieved salvage parts from his pockets, and all three arrows from his quiver. It wasn't much, but Lara felt she had no real room to complain, since his body was no weapon armory. Granted, it would be hard to complete stealth kills without arrows.

After that, she scrambled up the flat wall, pushing herself up on the ledge with her left leg, and noticing another ammunition box. Wary of the flames just behind the box, she quickly split the ammunition with Alex once he joined her atop the ledge, gritting his teeth since he was using his bad arm as though it had never been injured. He quickly tried to save face and get over it, since they couldn't afford to stop or slow down.

They continued to what looked to be a wooden ramp. Lara had noticed even more burning temples along her right side view, knowing they were getting closer to the outskirts. However, when she stood at the highest point of the ramp, she had no other option but to jump and grab onto the beam of the wooden structure for dear life. She knew the risk she was putting herself, and Alex, in, without even looking down, but what else could they do? They couldn't just go back.

Before she jumped, she remembered that Alex wouldn't be able to grab on firmly, since his arm was still badly injured. He couldn't even scramble up a flat wall without wincing. However, like she had realized earlier, she couldn't go back or find any sort of shortcut. She looked down, seeing even more flaming woodpiles at the bottom of the gap. If he missed or lost his grip, he'd be killed.

"Alex," She whispered to him, turning around. He blinked at her nervously, prompting her to go on. She sighed helplessly, averting his gaze. "You're gonna have to jump." She mumbled, still looking down.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows, assessing the present severity of his wound. It throbbed indignantly as he looked at it, obviously displeased at the fact it was receiving little attention; especially medical attention.

"But.. my arm -" He stammered, but Lara cut him off.

"Yes, I haven't forgotten about your arm," She said icily, frustrated at, not Alex, but her lack of options. Alex cringed a little, her words slicing him open like a dagger. Lara's never talked to him like that; not even when she told him to educate himself back on the  _Endurance,_  and that was supposed to have a more insulting context. It was implying that he was ignorant, and not just in the not-knowing way; in the stupid way. Even if the underlying cause of her annoyance did not point to him, it still hurt more than that comment ever would.

"But what else can we do?" She questioned him in a calmer tone, rhetorically, of course, since she didn't expect him to have an answer. He was at a loss just as much as she was, but even if he did have an answer, he wouldn't want to say it, anyway. He was already in deep water with her, and did not want to object to her ideas, out of the fear that she'd just blow up at him.

He sighed when she turned around, mentally preparing herself to jump off the ramp. She thrashed her arms forward as she leaped off, and exhaled briskly in relief when her hands closed around the beam. As she shimmied across to the other side of the wooden structure, Alex still stood at the edge of the ramp hesitantly, standing as still and as stiff as a lone cactus in the barren desert. He did not want to make the jump, because he barely knew of his injured arm's present strength, especially for carrying his own weight with no ground support whatsoever, and feared he'd get killed for his ignorance, since his arm could barely handle the wall scramble from earlier.

But, as Lara had asked, what else could he do?

Ignoring the nervous churn of his stomach, he braced himself, and jumped with his eyes closed, reaching out blindly with both arms. He didn't want to see himself begin to enter the realm of imminent death if he fell. And, if his eyes were closed, he wouldn't have to see his life flash before them - wouldn't have to see glimpses of his quaint colonial-style home back in Jersey, his older sister in a graduation cap, his parents, the virgin white snow he hated shoveling but loved playing in, the tendrils of steam rising from the mug of homemade hot chocolate his mother always made him - and, most of all, he would not have to, nor did he want to, see Lara's face.

Then, his eyes flicked open as his hands came into contact with something hard, almost bumping his forehead into it. Startled, he shook his head, trying to snap out of his stupor. He was actually holding onto the beam with both hands - it hurt like he didn't even know what, but he was holding on. At least the pain was more irritating than anything else, now.

Once he was at the last ledge, he accepted Lara's outstretched hand and clambered clumsily atop the platform as quietly as possible, hearing someone muttering about a wallet and a dead phone. He shuffled closer, joining her crouched form behind two conveniently placed crates, trying to focus on what was happening. As the gruff voices would suggest, there stood two men. One was hunched over, his back turned, who appeared to be looting someone with a fire going on in the corner, and another standing at his left, not facing his partner or the body he was looting.

Lara pressed an index finger to her lips once Alex got close enough, as if the noises he made rivaled that of a raucous two-year-old's with no parents in sight. Alex grimaced petulantly, knowing better than anything that he had to be quiet. He wasn't stupid.

_Come on, L.C.,_ he thought,  _I'm not_ that  _useless. Give me some credit, here. I saved your life, like, twice._

Damn, now his conscience wasn't the only asshole here. He was just so glad he didn't say that out loud, or he would've earned a perfectly warranted slap in the face, which would give away their position.

_God, you're such an immature little prick,_ his conscience told him.  _It's so hard to believe you're actually older than her, when you act like such a prepubescent boy sometimes. Lara owes you nothing for saving her life; not even the slightest bit of slack. The only reason why you want to protect her, is because you know she's not the type of person to ever forget that and not want to repay you with something - and, in your case, she'll repay you with her attention. Man up. Grow a pair. Protect her because you want to, not because of what'll come out of it. You've already started doing it without my counsel. Now, you just need to get into the habit of doing it._

Like any other time, his conscience was right. It was like he had a father-away-from-father in his head; criticizing and berating him when he deserved it. So, he never really felt alone when he was alone, since his father's strict, yet constructive mindset took partial residence in Alex's mind.

But, wait - what did it mean by "you've already started doing it without my counsel"? It never even occurred to Alex that he was changing his demeanor around Lara, like it had implied. However, he was much too inexperienced in the field of women and admiration for them, to know whatever the hell that meant, so he let it go.

"So, what came in, another tanker?" The crouching man asked.

Lara was still hiding, trying to determine the right time to strike. She noticed an ammunition box behind the crate just diagonal from where she was, but she didn't want to take the risk of dashing over there and getting caught, even if the men weren't facing her.

The standing man blew out what looked to be smoke before speaking. "Nah, looked like some kind of research ship." Their voices sounded somewhat dismissive, not as excited or fervent as the other men.

"Should be some good stuff, then."  _Now_ the crouching man sounded interested; which didn't quite surprise Alex, mainly because of what he was currently doing. It'd be an okay loot cache, that is, if he can find a way to get on it. That ship was, no pun intended, wrecked. But, even if this guy did find a way to get on it, there'd be little left for him to raid. Except, maybe, Lara's iPod, or Alex's day-old laptop; if they weren't already broken. Maybe they'd find a bag of rice or something in the kitchen to put Lara's iPod in. Anything was possible with these bastards.

"We'll find out soon. We got our crew towing it in now." See? Of course they found a way. So, if anything really was possible with these bastards, could there be a possibility that  _some_ aspect of Alex's conspiracy theories were true?

_He's back at it again, folks._

"Think we'll get any new recruits outta this bunch?" The second man asked as the first man took another drag from a cigarette, blowing out more smoke.

_Recruits?_ Lara set her jaw indignantly.  _Why would anyone aboard the Endurance want to be recruited by_ you _, after you've held them captive? Is this_ really  _how desperate this island makes people,_   _that they'd side with the enemy if it got them back to civilization? Christ, what is_   _this place?_

"Fuck, man, I don't know."

Lara was done listening to them talk. Every second she wasted listening to their conversation as if it were some sort of sitcom, could've been spent getting out of here. Biting the inside of her cheek to spite herself, she quickly grabbed an arrow from her quiver, as if her swiftness would make up for the seconds lost, fit it to the string, and pulled it back. She was initially aiming at the second man's head, but that would just be plain stupid, since, of course, that would get the other guy hostile, even though he wasn't facing him. Instead, she aimed her arrow at the rock face between their heads, and released the string.

The two men straightened after the arrow made a  _clink_ sound, penetrating the rock.

"You hear that?" The second man asked panickedly, abruptly standing up. He began to walk towards the rock face with his bow now in hand, assessing the arrow as if trying to make sense of where it came from. "Stay here, I'll check it out."

The first man was looking bewilderedly at the wooden ground beneath his feet, as if the arrow had possibly come from there. Lara almost cracked a smirk. "Idiot." She muttered, before pulling out another arrow, fitting it to the string, and pulling it back, aiming it at the man's head. Once it was far enough, she released it. When the arrow hit his head, his body staggered forward clumsily and sank to his knees, crumpling to the ground on his side.

The second man was still trying to figure out where the first arrow came from, but was not looking anywhere behind him. He didn't even notice what had become of his partner, since all that came out of him was a light thud and a small strangled sound from his throat when he fell. That would've been easy to miss, what with the small crackling fire the man had going on in the corner, the ambience of the night, (which Alex found odd - in total chaos, crickets could still find the audacity to chirp?) and the explosions from where all the chaos was occurring.

Now, this man's total obliviousness to what was happening around him was strengthening Alex's belief in the homicidal robot theory, because Lara literally could've gone right up to his partner and shot him with a 12-gauge, and he wouldn't even bat an eye. "Such idiots." She mumbled to herself, punctuating the insult with an arrow to the unsuspecting man's head.

He let out a guttural groan, decibels louder than his partner's, as he fell backwards, lodging the arrow deeper into his skull. Once she put the bow down, she checked if she had more space available for more ammunition, but all her pockets were jammed to the maximum. She didn't want to risk losing any if too much fell out, so she was forced to ignore the ammunition box, doing the same with the men as she looted them for only arrows and salvage. Then, she heard a light creak from above her, and saw a man begin to descend an unrolled wooden ladder.

"What's going on down there? Everything okay?" The man asked worriedly, sounding almost juvenile, like he had just recently been 'recruited'. This was how young these men were taught to be cruel, taught to kill, taught to think red.

What scared Lara the most, was that he reminded her of another young American freshman in her uni back in London, who had hailed from Oregon. He was tall, blonde, and blue-eyed, yet babyfaced and shy, and usually resembled a kicked puppy most of the time. His name was William, she remembered. This man reminded her of William so much, that if she ever got out of this place and went back to uni, she'd never be able to look at him the same again. It made her stomach twinge at the thought of someone as naive and green as he, or any other poor young man possibly marooned on this island in the past, being forcibly molded into a heartless killer.

Which was why it physically hurt her to fire an arrow into his back, and why it almost made her want to break down and cry as he lost his grip on the rungs, falling with an anguished howl.

Suddenly, she felt cold, and it wasn't because of the temperature. She placed her bow back across her shoulder, hugging herself tightly and brushing her hands up and down her forearms, standing stiffly in front of the three bodies she had just been responsible for killing. Especially the final one, which she couldn't help but gawk at.

And all she saw was William.

She sniffled, the guilt of her first kill hurtling at her full force, and realizing that these initially normal, ordinary men weren't the only ones being molded into heartless killers. She didn't even try to deny it. She knew it was true. She just wished it didn't hurt so much to want to protect herself, to want to protect the people she cared about.

To want to protect Alex.

She didn't want to show any more weakness in front of him, or in front of anyone, for that matter. like she did when they saw each other again, but that, she just couldn't help. Now, she  _had_  to control herself, even though he could've cared less about seeing her cry. There was a difference between not wanting to see someone cry, and not wanting to see someone hurt, although that difference seemed cryptic. Well, at least to Lara.

Alex wanted so desperately to hug her, but his arm was still throbbing after all this time, and even something as minor as a hug could be the feather to break the camel's back. He'd have to conserve the lack of strength that was still stored in it, for something more laborious, before he finally couldn't take it anymore.

He figured the least he could do was loot the man for her, but she refused to take any of his ammunition. Instead, she stepped over him, feeling even more guilty as she did so, and began to climb the rungs of the ladder.

Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get any better, she heard Roth's voice over the walkie talkie.

"Lara, are you there?" He asked urgently. Alex almost fell off the ladder in relief.

"Yes!" She confirmed breathlessly, unimaginably glad she survived all this. If Roth was okay, surely he knew of the other's whereabouts.

"I can see smoke coming from the old ruins, are you okay?"

"Oh, God.. Roth, We're in trouble, Alex and I. They're killing people." She began, taking only one breath in that entire sentence.

A beat of silence, then thunder, actual thunder, and not just a nearby explosion or gunshot, sounded.

"What? Who?" Roth questioned incredulously.

"Men.. I don't know why. We had to kill some of them. We had no choice." She confessed, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she remembered the man so closely resembling William.

Another beat of silence. Lara was nearing the top of the rock.

"That can't have been easy." Roth breathed, unable to believe the young woman he's known and taken care of through most of her childhood, was capable of killing men who could've been at his age or stature.

"It's scary just how easy it was. You've got to warn the others, Roth." She said, pushing herself up onto the platform of land that the ladder led up to.

"Don't worry about them right now. You just do whatever it takes to get to me, Lara."

One last beat. Lara sighed resignedly, knowing all too well that would most likely result in the killing of more men; some callous, some like the young man, even though she tried relentlessly to keep him at the back of her mind, like the first man she killed. At least she could admit the first man deserved it. But, even if the young man were armed with a lethal chainsaw, she'd still think he didn't deserve to die.

"We'll try."


	4. A Winding Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! :D
> 
> Once again, I do sincerely apologize from the bottom of my heart for keeping you guys waiting. I also regret to inform you that this chapter is nearly half the length of the last chapter. But, don't fret - this is not the end of Alexara! :) Be on the lookout for my next, longer Alexara fic, 'When Pigs Fly'.
> 
> P.S.; I recommend listening to Thunder by Boyslikegirls as an accessory, if you will, to this chapter. I can't quite place why, but it seems pretty fitting. Probably because of the weather in this chapter relating to the title of the song. Or something else. I'll let you be the judge of that. -wink-
> 
> With that said, enjoy!

 

_I can't hold on, I can't hold on._

_But I can't let go, I can't let go._

_Not yet._

_Don't look down. Just close your eyes, and drop as soon as you feel low enough._

Every little thing Alex says to himself is hushed, a silent mantra on his lips to soothe the throbbing pain, to chase away the guilt and the fear. It works, sometimes.

But there are some instances where he just can't seem to handle it, like when he shot a man who fell to his death over a wooden railing, engulfed by the raging inferno. That was just seconds before. It's kill or be killed, and he knows that. That knowledge doesn't necessarily make him feel better, though.

He lacks the righteousness a first-person shooter player would have after gunning each of their enemies down. He lacks the feeling of accomplishment, lacks the triumphance. And he lacks clarity in his emotions. He's scared, but the fearsome incline of his brows with each shot he fires betray bravery; and he's guilty for killing these men, but he knows they deserved what was coming.

They were maniacs. Some of them were lobbing fucking molotov cocktails at them. There was one instance where Lara was too occupied with killing the bowmen, that she didn't notice one coming right at her. Alex saw it just in time, though, and pulled her out of the way with his bad arm, keeping her crouched behind a crate and firing a few shots at the asshole who threw it. She stared at him longer than she's ever had before - but with what, Alex simply couldn't place. Admiration? Respect? Gratefulness? Surprise? He was leaning on the latter - even  _he_  was surprised his reflexes were that quick.

She appeared as though she wanted to say something, but Alex wasn't looking at her. He was still shooting at the enemies from behind the crate.

"Thank me later." He had said, quickly taking cover before a bowman could release his arrow, and blindly sending a few shots his way. At the third shot, he was met with a loud groan instead of an arrowhead.

Lara must've thought he was brave. She must've been grateful for him saving her life. And he must've sounded like James Bond, or something. (He wished.) But he was just as scared as she was.

His emotions don't matter now, though, and neither does his still-aching injury. He has to focus on finding Roth, and finding a way out of here. He has to keep moving. He can't let these things stop him, because they wouldn't stop Lara.

He doesn't know how the hell she does it. She's made her first kill less than a half-hour ago, and, yet, her face couldn't be any more stoic. She didn't look green in the face at all, after stepping over the bodies she had killed. She even performed her stealth kills in the belly of the temple without a moment's hesitation, something Alex couldn't even begin to do without at least being properly trained. And, as far as he knew, no archeology buffs got trained to deliver stealth kills with a bow.

He, himself, obviously didn't train for his first kill, which was most likely why it didn't work at first, but that was probably because he didn't have a bow at his disposal, like Lara did.

But, even if he did, he'd never think to simply hook it around someone's neck and choke them with it. He'd probably just use it to do what it was made to do, and it probably would've hurt so much less. With a bow, you wouldn't have to be so close to your victim that you'd feel them struggle and writhe under every single move you made. You wouldn't have to feel the guttural noises in their throats just as clearly as you'd hear them, and you wouldn't have to feel them start as you plunged an axe into their gut.

_Time to drop._

He unhooks his axe blade from the rope as soon as he nears the torii, letting both his hands fall free, and his feet hit the moist grass. He's reeling for a few more seconds than he'd like, and his feet have decided to join the aching party, but he doesn't bother looking back at the burning temple.

_Just keep moving._

Lara's walking in front of him, her skin glossy from the rain, and her clothes a much deeper shade. The blotch of blood just above her.. _posterior_  that was once a prominent scarlet is now a brownish burgundy, and Alex stupidly wonders if it still hurts. He's not going to ask her that, though, because that would be even stupider.

They jog up a few stone staircases, lanterns to their right illuminating their path, until they reach a narrow crevice in a cliff wall. Lara stops in the middle of the crevice, then looks up, assessing its height.

Oh, hell no. She isn't really considering.. She is.

She looks back at Alex. "We have to climb this." She says quietly, apology clouding her eyes.

This obviously isn't going to be a walk in the park to climb. Alex couldn't even climb the jungle gym as a kid without losing his grip, and now he has to climb this - in the pouring rain. And with an aching arm.

He might as well let Lara go without him.

He says so with a light chuckle, as he's always trying to lighten the mood, but Lara just looks even more worried. "Alex, don't say that. I'm not going anywhere without you."

Alex gulps. That sounds a lot different in his head. But he's not going to flatter himself.

"Alright," He says, sighing. "But you go first. I don't want to crush you if I lose my grip. Then, we'd both be unable to climb, and that would suck."

"You'd also be hurt pretty badly if you fell, though." Lara pointed out.

Alex tipped his head and shrugged a shoulder, considering her statement. "But, hey, it's better for only one of us to be badly injured than the both of us, no?"

"I guess." She mumbles hesitantly, after a long pause. She knew he was right, but she just hated how he was so selfless to a point where he had little to no regards for his own safety. Yet, at the same time, she valued it, and it made her respect him - made her see him as something more than just the geeky technician with eccentric conspiracy theories.

She places one hand at the juncture of two rocks, lifts her left leg to meet it, and then moves both of her hands to the rock wall behind her to steady herself. Slowly, but surely, she begins to shimmy upwards, stopping and shielding herself with her left arm as a few rocks cascade past her.

Alex grew worried. He doesn't want her to get hit, but there's nothing he can do except stand here and hope that she won't. He hates feeling useless.

She continues, much to Alex's distress. He would've already given up by now, had he been in her shoes. Or at least shit his pants. Probably both. But although he feared for her, he was still rooting for her through and through. He always would.

Then she sees her slip, and his heart gallops at a pace akin to a hummingbird's fluttering wings. However, he makes an effort to keep the worry out of his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She calls, panting. "Just.. a bit slippery."

He chuckles uneasily. "Careful, now."

She nods, continuing to ease up the crevice, even as it gets tighter and narrower, and Alex can no longer see her from where he is standing. He cranes his head to the side in an attempt to catch sight of her, but sees nothing. Then, he hears her voice from above, seemingly clear as crystal over the rumble of the thunder.

"Alright, Alex. Come on up."

He's more than happy to hear that she made it (even though he has no idea what she's waiting for him on), but the prospect of climbing this thing is now beginning to settle in his stomach like chunks of lead. Not even Lara could make it up there without slipping, or being narrowly missed by a bunch of falling rocks.  _Narrowly_.

If Lara can't, there's no way in hell Alex can. Shit, there's probably more of a possibility of him walking away from this island (if he does at all) with Lara on his arm, than him making it up there.

But he's gonna try. Ain't no harm (with the exception of probably a broken back, neck, or butt) in trying.

_You can do this, Weiss. This is significantly less scarier than rock climbing, and you did it - well, you pissed your pants while doing it - in the 5th grade, so you can definitely do this. Even with a fucked up arm._

He attempts to emulate the position in which Lara was in; hand on juncture, leg raised to meet it, hands moved to the wall at his back - okay, seems tight enough to hold him.

_Here goes nothing._

He shimmies upward, the wall surprisingly firm and not as slippery as he had initially feared. Still, he wills himself to not look down, because, not only will he stop and lose his grip, his glasses will tumble to the ground. If his legs weren't currently occupied, he would've kicked himself for forgetting to take them off.

After a while, despite the protesting cramps in his arm, he finds that this is relatively easy to climb, thanks to the support and added balance the walls at his back and his feet give him. He practically doesn't need his arm - and he feels the amount of throbbing decrease considerably, as if it's relieved it's finally being given a break. It sure isn't the only one.

That break is short-lived when his leg slips, unable to hook onto the next juncture in the wall. _Now_ , he looks down.

Tiny pebbles and clouds of dirt fall to the ground from where his foot was displaced, alleviating the minute amount of faith he had in this God-forsaken wall. He's gotta be at least twelve feet high in spite of the slight fall, which makes him feel nauseous. However, he's just arriving at the curve of the crevice - he can't possibly stop now.

_Just a little farther. Come on, you can do this._

Lara, God bless her, calls from above like a beacon of hope, obviously hearing him slip. "Are you alright?" Unlike Alex, she welcomes the worry in her tone.

"Yeah," He says with a weary smile. "I'm not dead, so I'm okay." He doesn't hear her chuckle. Perhaps he's still too far down.

"Well, come on. I'll pull you up." She sounds urgent, but not impatient - urgent in a worried way. Like a you-better-get-up-here-soon-or-I-won't-have-any-nails-left-after-this way. Not that Lara would be the type to worry about nails - but you get the point.

He's crammed so tightly in the next part of the crevice, that he can feel the warmth of his own breath ricocheting off the opposite wall. But at least there's even more support this way.

Thankfully, it doesn't take too much more climbing for him to see fingertips resting on what seems to be a plank platform, obviously Lara's. Once she sees him, she smiles and steps back, preparing herself to pull him up.

"Are you sure you're capable of doing this?" Alex wonders aloud, climbing a little higher so that he can reach the platform, grunting as he does so. "I mean, I'm not trying to underestimate your strength, but.. I'm a bit on the chubby side." His lips split into a crooked grin, his elbows resting on the platform.

Lara giggles, her cheeks flaring red at his unusually, dare she think it, _handsome_  smile as she offers her hands. "Don't be ridiculous. You haven't eaten since God knows when."

"Oh, God, don't remind me," He groans, throwing his hands in Lara's. "I miss Jonah's cooking."

"Me, too. Let's hope we can find him, soon." She says wistfully, closing her hands around Alex's and pulling him up, being mindful of his injury.

He grits his teeth, using his legs to push himself onto the platform so that Lara won't have to bear all his weight, and so she won't accidentally pull too hard on his bad arm. She's not the klutzy type, but, hey, you can never be too careful.

They don't know why, but they're laughing like idiots as soon as Alex joins her on the platform, and they don't even realize their hands are still very much intertwined. Until the laughter dies out.

In the silence, time seems to stand still - the streams of rain from the wooden beams above them halt abruptly, and they're left to their thoughts, the thoughts that had seemed to escape them just seconds ago.

Did Lara seriously acknowledge Alex's smile as handsome?

No matter how much the question made her blush, she couldn't possibly deny it. He  _was_  good-looking, she'll give him that. But that's it. Nothing less, nothing more.

Alex, on the other hand, is two steps away from becoming a makeshift stovetop. Heat blossoms from his cheeks, to his arms, to his hands, and, oh, God, Lara's skin is still fucking glowing. Raindrops bead and stream on her arms like tiny jewels, and they run down to his hands, but he finds himself hardly caring. The heat in his hands will evaporate them before he knows it.

A distant gunshot shakes them both out of their passion-induced stupor. Lara suddenly releases his hands and turns around, walking out of the small hut they've found themselves in, against her better judgement. Alex is still standing there for a few milliseconds shy of a moment, before alertness soon overpowers his disappointment.

Another gunshot. Then another. Snarling. Barking. Thunder crashing.

Alex follows Lara out of the hut, then down a narrow passage. Once out of the passage, they see Roth, alternating fire between two pistols at a feral black wolf reminiscent to the bastards the duo saw earlier.

"Agh, get back!" He yells, continuing to fire at the relentless beast.

Lara skids to a stop, calling his name twice - once in confusion, once more in silent urgency.

"Go on, get out of here! Go on!" Roth fires thrice more until the animal is finally hit, and rolls over to a nearby rock, dead.

As soon as it's down, Roth attempts to steady himself, but collapses, due to the severity of his wound. But saying his wound was severe, would be nothing less than sugarcoating it. His shinbone is almost completely visible. Alex didn't even know wolf bites could go that deep - and he's not sure if he should be proud, or spooked as fuck, that  _that_  was the kind of thing he risked happening to himself, or worse, Lara, in that forest.

"Roth, I'm coming!" Lara shouts, racing to Roth's aid as he scoots himself backwards to lean on the rock just alongside the wolf carcass.

Alex followed suit, and was just about to comment on how much damage the wolf had done to Roth's leg, but decides against it, since it's already pretty obvious.

"Thank God you're alive." She says, gasping as she assesses his wound for herself. She probably never thought multiple wolves would be capable of this, either, let alone one.

Alex is pretty glad Roth made it, too, just not in this state. His own injury seemed like one you could be able to put a bandaid on, now that he saw Roth's.

"That God's got nothing to do with it," Roth pants, squeezing the trigger on his pistol. Alex's eyes widen, before he hears it click, then sighs in relief.

Roth looks back over at Lara as she produces a roll of gauze from one of his various cargo pockets, and begins to wrap it around his wound. "It's good to see you, too, girl. And, Alex. Surprised you made it up this far." He makes an attempt at a weak smile.

_You're telling me_ , Alex thinks. He should be offended, but, in all honesty, he's thinking the same thing.

Lara chuckles. "Sorry, they did a real number on your leg."

"Nah," Roth assures her breathlessly, drifting his eyes shut, "Looks worse than it is."

"Roth, are you kidding? That wolf bit you down to the bone. Literally." Alex protests.

Roth shakes his head. "That's the least of our problems. The wolves took my food pack. The transmitter from the lifeboat's in it. If we don't get that back, we're not getting off this bloody island."

Alex blinks. Clever wolves. But he's certainly not praising them.

"Yeah, but you're not in the best shape to be getting anything back. You need morphine, antiseptic -" Lara begins, but Roth cuts her off.

"Also in the pack."

Lara turns, places her hands on her hips, and says what everyone's thinking - "Shit."

"Exactly," Roth agrees. "Come here, come on." He stretches out his arms, and Alex and Lara encircle themselves in them, helping him over to the tiny wooden shelter where he's got a fire going, despite the rain. He's dragging his wounded left leg behind him, grunting with each step he takes, but the pain is soon too much for him to bear. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and he lolls over on Lara's side.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no." She babbles, trying to keep Roth from falling. Alex attempts to keep him up, as well, but the man is much heavier, and is instead guided gently to the ground by Lara, as she cannot support his dead weight, either.

She leans over him and places her hands on his upper body, trying to gauge a pulse, but his bulky equipment does not allow her to do so. So she lifts her shaking fingers and presses them gently on the right side of his neck, exhaling deeply in relief upon feeling a weak, labored pulse. It's still there, though, and that's what matters. Now, she must find the pack in order to keep it that way, or strengthen it. She shivers at the thought of having another run-in with those ruthless wolves. But someone's got to do it, right?

Her voice wavers with anxiety and uncertainty, but she knows Alex can't go with her. That'd just be selfish of her to do. And she's traversed this island alone for over a day already - surely, she can do it alone this time. "You stay here with Roth. I'll go find the pack."

Alex must pick up on her hesitant tone, because he furrows his brows. "You don't seem so sure about that. Why don't I come with you?" He stands, wincing as his bad hand pushes on his knee. That display just seems to prove her point.

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere, Alex. Look at you. You need to rest, you've spent the entire day climbing. Doing more climbing will only make your injury worse." Her voice was more firm now, more stern. Almost motherly. Looking at her body language, Alex knew she meant business. Not that she never did, but.. yeah. She'd still be right, even if Alex couldn't decipher body language. She's always right.

"Alright. Just watch yourself out there." And with that, she turned and walked away, in the general direction of a single wolf that howled from a ledge in the distance. Alex didn't know how to stop her, because he couldn't, knowing that Roth's life was on the line.

No one could stop her, either way. No _thing_  could stop her. Not a bunch of crazy cultists, not a gate that's missing a handle, not a ship that wrecks in a freak accident, not the rain, not a pack of gargantuan black wolves, not the need to survive, nothing. She was like an unstoppable force colliding with a piece of one-ply toilet paper. Yeah. That sounded about right, in Alex's head.

He scoots over, close to where Roth is lying, so he could monitor his condition. He follows Lara's example and places his index and middle finger at a prominent vein in Roth's neck, until he can feel a light, rhythmic pump going. He doesn't take his fingers off, though, even as he's watching Lara jump from a small wooden wagon to a pavilion, and from that pavilion, to a dangling wooden crate, that slowly swings her over to a building ahead of her. Then he loses sight of her.

He looks back down at Roth, who's as still as the statue sheltered under the pavilion Lara was on. There's a large gout of dried blood at the right side of his forehead, and the heavy rain does nothing to wash it out at least a little.

Roth had more experience with the 'great outdoors' than anyone else on the Endurance - even Lara. He was the Jack-of-all-trades when it came to survival. Lara had only been on so many expeditions with him, but she still managed to get a few pointers, and that was more than evident in the way she carried herself. When she allowed herself to be, she was confident in her knowledge and her ability. She didn't simply trot aimlessly around the island like a lost puppy, waiting for a solution to fall from the sky and knock her over the head. If the all the doors were closed, she'd burst them open with a battering ram, and just keep moving. And Alex admired that in her. Sure, she'd be a bit hesitant to show herself off at times, and Alex couldn't possibly understand why. When you're brilliant to that extent, you have to show it somehow, don't you? But, no. Lara doesn't do that.

All her potential is locked inside her, and it only ever escapes when she's met with a situation that requires that potential. Alex noticed her hesitation before she began to climb the crevice only moments before, but once she was inbetween it, there was no stopping her. Not even when she slipped, or the rocks fell right past her. She kept going. And Alex could only imagine if it were her who had gotten the arm injury instead of him, she'd still be scaling this entire island without thinking twice. Especially considering she got impaled through the stomach, and she stays knocking everyone dead. Literally.

By the time this is all over, she'll probably still consider herself a normal, college-age girl, with no special quirks or endearing characteristics. But no other college-age girl would be able to even watch the shit she's been through.

Thunder crashes, and, with it, Alex hears a set of metallic clangs and thuds. From where he's sitting, he can't exactly see what's going on, but he has this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. It makes his elevated arm throb more fervently. Jesus, this shit really must have a mind of its own. All the more reason to get some of that morphine, because this is getting creepy.

He removes his glasses with his free hand and wipes them down on his dingy shirt, ridding it of the raindrops.

_I might as well put it in my pocket_ , he thinks,  _since they're just going to get wet again, and I don't need them right now._  He quickly stows them in his front jean pocket, so he won't sit on them, and returns his gaze to Roth.

Now that his arm is elevated and is finally catching a break, its throbbing lessens considerably, and he doesn't feel as lethargic. He can actually stomach the pain now, instead of wincing with every beat of his heart, like before.

Despite his long-awaited relief, he feels like something's missing. Perhaps he's hungry. His stomach growls in affirmation. Okay, yeah, he's hungry. Seeing a bunch of hens clucking around when he's thinking about Jonah's grilled chicken breast isn't helping matters, especially when his reflexes are much too slow for him to catch one, and he's not about to shoot them and alert possible enemies. But, besides hunger, there's something else, something..

His fingers rap against the grass, eager to type.

His day-old computer. Probably being scrapped by the cultists.

He's not used to spending such a long period of time without an electronic of some sort, besides a walkie-talkie. It's like he's jonesing, or something, and it's strange, because it didn't affect him when Lara was around.

Oh, there's the word for it. Loneliness. He never feels lonely when he has his computer. When he doesn't, he needs someone to talk to, and, quite obviously, he can't talk to Roth. Talking to himself seemed odd. So, he's left to listen to nothing but the snarl of his stomach and the crash of the thunder, occasionally catching sight of lightning bolts. He does so for a longer amount of time than he originally thought he could handle, before loneliness brings a friend to the party - lethargy - and it gets the best of him.

* * *

Alex comes to a few moments later, at the sound of two hushed voices near the fire. His hand instinctively grips the gun in his pocket, alert as to whoever - or, knowing this island,  _what_ ever, is there. He looks over his shoulder, only to see Roth sitting up against the barrels at their temporary camp, and Lara sitting just beside him, her ponytail billowing in the wind. An opened first-aid kit and a blinking black walkie-talkie-looking thing is at their feet.

_She got it._

From where he's lying, he can't see any signs of blood that wasn't there before she left. It's probably because he doesn't have his glasses on, or because of the obscure angle in which he's seeing her - but, really, she doesn't seem to be too hurt.

He's about to get up and announce his now wakeful presence, but he notices something - there's only a slight prickly feeling where most of the pain in his arm used to be, like someone pinched the juncture of his forearm and his bicep. He rolls up his sleeve to see a bandaid in that very place, and there's gauze wrapped around the tear in his sleeve where his wound is.

Whatever Lara did, he knew he had to thank her. Only God knows what she went through, or risked going through, to save not just Alex and Roth, but the entire Endurance Crew.

Lara and Roth are discussing plans to take the transmitter up to the radio tower, but Roth lamentingly admits that he will not be able to do it himself. Lara is silent. He attempts to reassure her, but, much to Alex's disbelief, she thinks she's not the kind of Croft her dad must've been. But if he knew what she went through on this island, and knew that she survived all of it, he would've been so proud of her.

"Sure, you are," Alex hears Roth say, "You just don't know it yet." Then there's a slight clinking sound, then a clattering sound. Lara is silent once more.

"Well, let's hope I'm a fast learner, then." She finally says.

She makes to get up, but Roth closes his hand over her wrist to stop her. "Just.. be careful, Lara." She says nothing after that.

Alex senses her walking towards him, and smiles drowsily at her as she crouches level to his position. "Thank you, Lara." He says. She may just think he's thanking her for fixing him up with some  _good_  old morphine, and she may continue to think that way, but it's much more than just that. He wonders if he'll ever get to say that to her face one day.

"And thank you, Alex. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

Alex's cheeks heat up at her statement, not expecting a girl like her to ever say that to a guy like him. He also didn't quite expect her to remember when he saved her life, or at least remember to thank him. "I could say the same thing about you, L.C."

And for the first time since they've marooned on this island, she grins, actually  _grins_ , with her eyes crinkling and everything, at him.

Just as Alex thinks things couldn't be even more unexpected than this, and that he swears he's hallucinating or dreaming or  _something_  because this just can't be real, she leans over and presses her mercifully soft lips to his stubbly, abrasive cheek.

His heart starts to tumble and thump and toss like shoes in a dryer, and it seems as though the butterflies in his stomach have metamorphosed to a flock of fervent hummingbirds. His mouth is dry with the inability to formulate words, and his brain is overwhelmed with the inability to formulate one single crystal-clear thought.

This isn't real. But her lips feel real. The warmth of her body near his feels real.

He's still speechless when she gets up. "I'll radio you when I'm at the tower." She says. Alex just nods, vainly attempting to keep his expression neutral. He knows he's failed when he sees her face twitch in amusement, but it makes him feel even warmer inside that, despite everything, she still gets an opportunity to smile every now and then. And Alex feels more than proud, if not a teensy bit smug, that he was the one to give her that opportunity.

_I'm rooting for you, partner._


End file.
